Becoming a Queen
by Wackysocks
Summary: Sarah chose to spend the rest of her life Underground, and is happily spending her days learning about her new home. But when Jareth's behavior and an unexpected challenge cause a long separation between them, unforeseen obstacles test their relationship, and Sarah begins to wonder if Jareth ever loved her at all. Sequel to Falling In Love.
1. Lessons

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Labyrinth_ or any of its characters – all are the property of Jim Henson, et. al.

**Becoming a Queen**

by Wackysocks

**Author's Note****: FINALLY! Here it is – the sequel to **_**Falling In Love**_**! There was so much positivity from the first one that I felt a sequel was in order. And once I finished the first one, a storyline popped into my head and just wouldn't leave. **

**If you are a new reader or haven't read **_**Falling In Love**_**, welcome! I'm glad you're interested in my story. However, I would **_**strongly**_** advise you to go back and read **_**Falling In Love**_** first. This story has several references to its prequel and makes several assumptions that won't make sense unless you have read about how Sarah got here in the first place.**

**Without further ado, here is the sequel! Enjoy!**

**Wackysocks**

Chapter 1: Lessons

With a wave of his hand, Remjun stopped the music.

"Not quite, Your Highness. The turn is always on the second count, not the first. Pause a little longer, as if in wistfulness, then turn. And lead the turn with your face. Remember – drama. Always drama."

Remjun waved his hand again, and the violinist began again. Sarah huffed and took Remjun's hands. She executed the turn correctly, but tripped over Remjun's foot a couple seconds later and stepped on her dress with her opposite foot. A large ripping sound filled the air.

_Oh no, not again_, Sarah thought, the familiar blush rising to her cheeks. Remjun stopped, waving his hand to stop the music again. Sarah let go of his hands and looked down to survey the damage. Behind her left leg, a long, jagged rip ran up her dress, showing a more-than-decent amount of her white petticoat underneath. Sarah's face burned.

"I think this is a good stopping point for today, Your Highness," Remjun said politely, as if her dress hadn't ripped at all. "Shall I return tomorrow?"

Sarah tore her eyes away from the rip and forced herself to stand up straight as she looked at her dance instructor. "Yes, Remjun, thank you. I will meet you here at five o'clock."

Remjun bowed, and motioned to the violinist. The minute they had walked out the door, Sarah was bent over, twisting her torso to try and see the rip better. Closer inspection only showed that it was worse than she thought. The long, jagged tear was frayed and raw – not something that could be sewn back together or repaired. Sarah sighed, blushing anew though there was now nobody else in the room. This was the third dress she had ruined since beginning her dancing lessons. Though there were no other women taking dancing lessons in the Goblin City to compare to, Sarah could not help but think that three ruined dresses was too high a number.

Sarah straightened and walked over to the window. She gazed out over the forest and sighed again. Up here, in the fourth of the castle's six towers, was where she had ended each one of her days ever since Remjun had arrived in the Goblin City. Sarah remembered it all too well.

_Sarah felt the shimmer of magic in her spine – a faint tremor that was Jareth's signal to her, letting her know that he was about to transport her, and that she should say her goodbyes now. Sarah frowned. He had told her that she could spend the entire day with Hoggle and Ludo. Why was he pulling her back after only a couple hours? She could see the disappointment in Hoggle's face when she told him she had to leave, and was prepared to argue with her fiancé when she arrived back at the castle, only to be surprised with the appearance of three strange men standing in the throne room with him._

"_Sarah," Jareth said in a formal tone, "Thank you for joining us." _

_Sarah unconsciously straightened up and did her best to seem more regal. She wished that she hadn't dressed so simply today. Whoever these men were, they must be important. Jareth never used this tone with her unless he was talking about something highly important. _

"_This is Koran," Jareth began. "He is my father's court historian." _

_Sarah's eyes widened in spite of herself._

"_This is Remjun, a dance instructor, and Cane, an etiquette instructor," Jareth finished. "They have come here to further your education."_

_The three men bowed to her. "Your Highness," they murmured._

_Sarah nodded to them. "Welcome," she said, her voice sounding calmer than she felt. "Thank you for coming."_

_That night, when the men had retired, Sarah had tried to argue with Jareth. "Why are these people here?" she had ranted, pacing back and forth across the floor as Jareth watched silently. "I don't need teaching! I'm living here, not at court! I don't need to learn a bunch of fancy rules."_

"_On the contrary," Jareth contradicted quietly. "This is an excellent idea. You know nothing of the history of this land, nor of the proper etiquette. You could easily end up offending someone and getting yourself killed simply because you didn't bow before you said 'sir.' And since you are becoming royal, that is all the most reason for you to know all the customs of this land."_

Sarah couldn't argue with him after that. At first, she had suffered in silence when more and more people from the Royal City had arrived. A swordfighting and self-defense instructor, from whom Sarah learned how to quickly throw a small dagger and how to break a man's hold on her. A chef, from whom Sarah learned about all things edible in this kingdom – strange plants and flowers that didn't exist Aboveground, some of which could put the eater into an endless sleep or cause them to see only in black and white if they weren't careful about how they prepared them. And others.

The biggest shock was the long procession of wagons that rolled into the Goblin City one day. It turned out to be headed by a royal seamstress, who was tasked with making Sarah a very large and thorough wardrobe. The wagons behind her were already full of cloth, materials, and women waiting to measure and sew, so Sarah had no way of politely refusing.

After several days of nonstop guests arriving, Sarah grew resigned to her fate as the uneducated student, and watched wistfully as her previously carefree days became fully taken up with lessons and lectures of all kinds. Her first lesson, which varied day to day, began promptly at 6:30AM every morning, and the lessons continued throughout the day until 9:00PM, when Remjun bid her good evening and retired.

Jareth, unused to having such a large number of people taking up a longer residence in his castle, became difficult to find and would often disappear for long periods of time, unless the alarm sounded that a child had been wished away. Whenever that happened, Sarah and the visitors from the castle were banned from leaving the castle until the thirteen hours were complete.

Initially, Sarah resented the constant instruction. But as the days passed, the subjects quickly became interesting. Self defense always made her feel empowered. History was fascinating. And even though Sarah felt rather bad that a large team of women were doing nothing all day but construct a tremendous number of dresses for her, she couldn't help but gasp in awe whenever a new creation was presented to her. They were all so beautiful.

But dancing, on the other hand, was just plain difficult. There were far too many dances to remember, in Sarah's opinion. Dances similar to the ones Aboveground (though Sarah didn't know anything about them either), like waltzes. Slow dances. Quick dances. Hopping dances and marching dances and processional dances that didn't seem like much except for walking around the dance floor holding people's hands and looking very solemnly at the other dancers. But by far the worst, in Sarah's opinion, were the story dances. With those, the entire point of the dance was to illustrate the story in the song being played. Except it was meant to be illustrated in such a way that it would impress one's partner. Sarah already felt very clumsy when she danced, and not having grown up with the stories and the dances like everyone else had made Sarah feel as if she had a distinct disadvantage. Plus, she always felt completely silly whenever Remjun told her to be dramatic. And then she would get self-conscious, which made her even clumsier. And as a result, accidents happened. Like this awful rip.

Sarah gazed at the forest below. If she wasn't always so tired after her long days of instruction, she would have gone and wandered through the trees long before today, drawing on the peacefulness of the breeze in the leaves and taking comfort in the quiet majesty of the mighty trunks.

Sarah leaned against the window frame, watching the sun slowly set over the forest, giving way to soft, silvery moonlight rippling across the treetops. Thinking. After some amount of time, she felt eyes on her and turned her face towards the doorway.

Jareth stood there, leaning against the doorframe even as she now leaned against the window frame, watching her impassively. Sarah would occasionally catch him watching her, face devoid of expression. She never knew how long he had been there or why he would watch her, only that he would, and that he never showed any shame at being caught.

"You look tired," he said quietly.

Sarah snorted and turned back to the window. She heard him walk up behind her and felt the soft touch of his hand between her shoulder blades.

"You should go to bed," he said softly. "You'll only tire yourself further by standing here."

"What time is it?" Sarah asked.

"Almost thirteen," he responded.

Sarah closed her eyes and sighed. "Alright," she said, turning away from the window and looking up at him.

He walked with her out of the tower. Though Sarah knew her way around now, for the most part, it was still nice to have him walk with her through the castle's long passageways. Sometimes, the too-still quiet of the long hallways seemed more ominous than merely absent of any presences.

At the door to her room, Jareth bent down, kissed her forehead, and cupped her face with his slender hand. "Goodnight, Sarah," he murmured. "Sleep well."

Sarah gazed up at him, emotions churning within her as they always did. _Will he tonight? _she thought. _Maybe I should, instead of waiting for him_.

But before she could decide whether to move or not, he straightened and dropped his hand from her face. Sarah forced herself to smile back at him. Bidding him goodnight, she opened her door and walked into her room, shutting it behind her.

Disappointed, she walked to her vanity table and sat down. She stared at herself in the mirror, saying nothing as Tria, her maid, quietly ran a brush through her long hair. She maintained her silence as Tria helped her out of her dress and bid her goodnight. Then, she crawled into her sheets and clutched a pillow to her chest, shivering until the bed warmed up to her body temperature.

Every night, she wished for it to be different, but every night it was the same. He would bid her goodnight at the door to her room, and she would walk in alone. He never walked into her room, not even during the day. He never took her in his arms. He never kissed her. He never made any sort of move to show that he even wanted her at all.

Sarah couldn't help but feel a sense of extreme worry. Months and months of repetition. Only the lightest of touches. Was it possible that Jareth didn't . . . _want_ her that way? Didn't feel the same way she did? Sarah knew that it had been her choice, and her choice fully, to come down to the Underground for good. What if it had really only been her that had wanted this?

A tear slipped down her cheek and she brushed it away angrily. No, it couldn't be. Jareth loved her. She knew that.

But doubt persisted in her mind like a festering sore. She believed that Jareth loved her, but had no proof to show for it. Jareth had not taken her in his arms since that night in her apartment when she had told him she loved him. He had not been in her room since she had undergone the excruciating transformation from human to fey. He had never kissed her, except for chastely on her forehead or the top of her head, as a brother or a father would. And worst of all, he had never once told her that he loved her.

All of this evidence only helped the doubts in Sarah's mind fester and grow until they solidified into a solid idea that wouldn't budge no matter how much Sarah denied it.

Had Jareth ever loved her, or was the whole thing on her side? Did he even want to marry her at all, or was he only doing it because she had foolishly wished herself down to the Underground to follow a man she hardly knew?

Had he ever been hers?


	2. The Decree

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Labyrinth_ or any of its characters – all are the property of Jim Henson, et. al.

**Becoming a Queen**

by Wackysocks

Chapter 2: The Decree

Sarah woke to a gentle prodding sensation in her back. She rolled over and looked blearily at the perpetrator. It was Tria.

"It's six o'clock, Your Highness," she said in her soft voice. "Time to get up."

Sarah yawned and exhaled noisily, then gritted her teeth and sat up, throwing back the covers. The shock of cold air against her skin made her shiver. At her vanity table, a tray of breakfast food sat waiting. Sarah walked over to the table and began to eat as Tria did her hair. The dress she had hung on the hook last night was gone, but Tria said nothing about it. Sarah wondered what the royal seamstress had told her team of assistants when it had been delivered back to her with the long rip in the skirt.

At precisely 6:20AM, Sarah finished eating, thanked Tria, and walked down through the castle to the back courtyard. It was hidden from common view, made especially for practicing. Her self-defense instructor was waiting for her there, and at 6:30AM exactly, Sarah began her first morning lesson.

The day progressed as usual without interruption. Every day was like this, though the order of the lessons changed day to day. Nothing unusual every happened, and the only interruptions were when children had been wished away and their lessons were forced to be carried on inside the castle. Sarah was walking through the Goblin City with Cane, her etiquette instructor (who was reviewing ways of greeting different people she might see at court depending on what rank they had) when the summons came.

She stopped walking, feeling the telltale shimmer in her spine, and looked at Cane with a frown on her face. "Do you feel that?" she said.

"Feel what, Your Highness?" he asked politely, as if she had not interrupted his lesson at all.

"The magic," she said slowly. "Jareth is calling me."

"No, Your Highness," he said, "but I shall follow you."

In the next instant, the magic grabbed a hold of her and pulled at her, and a second later, she rematerialized on the steps to the large double doors of the castle. Jareth stood next to her, his face impassive. A second later, Cane rematerialized behind her.

At the foot of the stairs stood another royal-looking procession of people, carriages, and wagons headed by a man wearing livery with the insignia of the Royal City emblazoned on his chest. At her appearance, he bowed. "Your Highness," he said.

Sarah nodded back.

Straightening again, he looked at both her and Jareth, and announced, "I have come bearing a decree from Their Royal Majesties, the King and Queen of the Royal City."

Jareth nodded to him.

The man pulled a scroll from his pocket and unrolled it, clearing his throat. "By order of Their Royal Majesties, the King and Queen of the Royal City, Her Highness the Princess Sarah, betrothed of His Highness Jareth, the Goblin King, is ordered to go on a Grande Tour of the land. She shall spend one month in each of the lands belonging to His Highness's brothers and sister, and two weeks Aboveground. She shall end her tour in the Royal City, where she shall spend two weeks in final preparations, which shall end with the royal wedding."

The man lowered the scroll and bowed to them again. "Their Royal Majesties request that you leave immediately, Your Highness, as the royal wedding approaches quickly."

Sarah didn't think she could respond coherently. They had been ordered to do what? Go and visit Jareth's siblings? For how long?

_Ugh_, she thought. _Jareth is not going to like being away from the Labyrinth for that long_.

Thankfully, Jareth saved her from responding. "She shall leave in the morning," he ordered. "Her servants will assist you in packing her belongings." Then, he turned to her and nodded with his head, indicating that she follow him.

Sarah did so, following him into the castle and into the throne room. Servants were appearing everywhere, as if Jareth's command had been heard throughout the entire castle. Jareth ignored them, passing his throne and walking up the flight of steps that led to the room with the stairs.

Sarah followed him. He stopped at the entrance to the room. The room was cold. Flights of stairs stretched away from them. Faint memories of racing up and down the stairs after her younger brother briefly echoed through Sarah's mind, only to disappear the minute she directed conscious thought to them.

After a long pause, Jareth turned to look at her. "Do you know what has been asked of you?" he asked quietly.

"I think so," Sarah answered. "We have to go visit your siblings in their lands, go Aboveground, and then get married in the Royal City?" Jareth's face remained expressionless as he looked at her. Sarah searched his face for a moment, then felt the blood drain from her face as realization sank in.

"You're not coming with me?" she asked, her voice shaking slightly.

Jareth jerked his head in acquiescence. "A Grande Tour is meant to show off the intended of a king or queen. This will be your journey, and your journey alone."

Sarah gaped at him, struggling for words. "But . . . but he didn't say how long it was . . ."

"Four months," Jareth responded, looking away from her and ignoring her gasp. "You will spend one month each in the Plains, the Mountains, and the Water Country, learning about and participating in the customs and activities of each. The last month will be split between Aboveground and the Royal City."

"Wh- why am I going Aboveground?" Sarah squeaked once she found her voice again.

"You'll see," Jareth answered, still not looking at her. Then his head tilted, as if hearing someone far away call his name, and he looked down at her. "We are needed," he said shortly, and led the way back down the steps toward the Throne Room.

Sarah followed numbly.

Four months away from Jareth? Visiting people she didn't know, learning strange customs, in places she was unfamiliar with? Suddenly, despite the long months of lessons she had been through, she felt vastly unprepared. Her stomach lurched, and she felt sick.

_Jareth, oh Jareth,_ Sarah cried out inside her head. _How am I supposed to do this without you? I know you might not love me, but I can't live without you . . . _

The rest of the day was spent in a flurry of packing. Servants rushed up and down the corridors, moving and packing things. Jareth disappeared again shortly after their conversation, leaving Sarah to answer all the servants' questions about where she wanted things, though nobody ever asked her whether or not she wanted something to be taken. They seemed to be packing a great deal more than they should, but Sarah couldn't seem to find the energy to care. The rest of the day was spent in a state of perpetual numbness.

In the evening, though Sarah stayed up long past the time that she normally did, Jareth never reappeared. And so she went to bed without his benevolent wish of goodnight. And even though he never touched her more than chastely, somehow it was worse to go to bed without any touch at all.

Tria woke Sarah early again, as if it were only lessons that Sarah was being woken for and not a months-long journey across the lands of the Underground. Sarah ate at her vanity table while Tria did her hair. The room had been stripped bare of knick-knacks and possessions – all loaded into the large wagon train that waited in the city streets below. Sarah felt as if she was on autopilot. She ate her food without knowing what it was, and allowed Tria to lace her into a dress without even knowing what she was wearing.

When she was finished, she walked downstairs. This time, Tria followed her. Sarah walked slowly through the throne room and out the double doors. Everyone was outside, loading last-minute boxes and trunks into the wagons. Tria bowed to her and walked over to the gilded carriage near the front of the line. _That must be mine_, Sarah thought dully. _Oh, joy. _

Suddenly, Sarah felt a touch on the small of her back. She turned and looked up into Jareth's face. But it was different this time. He stood very close to her, and his eyes burned intensely, as if they were screaming at her. Before she could say a word, he spoke.

"Sarah," he said in a low voice. "Remember who you are visiting. And know that-"

The man who had read the royal decree to them approached them and Jareth leaned away from her. "It is time, Your Highness," he said to her, bowing respectfully.

"Thank you," Jareth answered for her. The man bowed again and walked over to the carriage.

Jareth leaned down again.

"I cannot protect you from everything," he hissed into her ear. And then, taking her hand, he led her down the steps and towards the carriage. Waving off the man who waited there, he helped her into the carriage himself. As soon as she sat down on the cushioned seat, he shut the door and stepped back from the carriage, still gazing at her intensely.

Sarah looked out the window at him, willing herself to remember the lines of his face – his prominent cheekbones, his long, narrow nose, the sweeping points of his eyebrows over his unevenly-colored eyes.

Without breaking his gaze, Jareth waved his hand near the front of the line, and Sarah heard an order shouted. Seconds, later, her carriage started moving with a lurch. And before her carriage had fully left the boundaries of the Goblin City, Jareth was obscured from sight by the line of wagons that followed her.

Sarah leaned back into the cushioned seat, her mind racing.

_I cannot protect you from everything. _

What could he mean? Was this trip supposed to be _dangerous?_

_I thought I was just visiting his family members_, Sarah thought wildly. _What would he need to protect me from?_

She thought about what he had said, turning it over in her mind for what felt like hours until she came to the conclusion that she simply had no idea what he could have meant. And slowly, the rhythmic lurching of the carriage combined with how late she had stayed up the night before caused her to rest her head on the pillows beside her and fall asleep.


	3. The Plains

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Labyrinth_ or any of its characters – all are the property of Jim Henson, et. al.

**Becoming a Queen**

by Wackysocks

Chapter 3: The Plains

Sarah woke hours later, the carriage still moving. She sat up slowly, stretching her neck and back. Her neck felt sore from the slumped position she had slept in, and she massaged it ruefully with her hand. Her eyes fell on a basket of food sitting on the floor of the carriage. Either it had already been in the carriage when they began the journey or they had stopped and someone had placed it in there while she was asleep. Pulling the basket towards, her, Sarah pulled out a small piece of bread and glanced out the window.

Flat plains stretched away from her as far as her eyes could see. Tall grasses waved in the wind. Sarah's eyes widened. Putting the piece of bread down, she scooted closer to the window for a better view. The grasses looked thick and sturdy. Far out in the fields, if she looked hard enough, she could see people moving. She turned her head to look forward. The grasses stretched on, but she thought she could see something far off in the distance. Sarah gazed out the window for a while, nibbling on her bread as she watched the landscape go by.

More hours passed. At some point, the grasses gave way to something that looked more like wheat, and Sarah could see more people out in the field now. Some were pulling large stalks of something out of the ground, and others were scattering something between the grain stalks.

Looking away from the window for a moment, Sarah spied another basket sitting on the seat opposite her. Inside were several books, which upon closer inspection were some of the history books that she had been reading over the last couple months. Opening one, Sarah tucked her feet up onto the seat and immersed herself in the comings and goings of many centuries past.

Several more hours later, darkness fell. Just as Sarah was wondering if they were going to ride throughout the night, the carriage stopped. Several seconds later, she heard a small knock on her carriage door. She opened the door to see Tria standing there.

"Your Highness," Tria curtsied. "We have stopped for the night. If you will follow me, I will show you to your room."

Sarah stepped out of the carriage and looked up to see a small farmhouse and two barns sitting to the side of the road her little procession had been traveling on.

"Is this someone's house?" she asked Tria.

"Yes," Tria replied, "But they are not here. They have agreed to let us use their house as a resting place and have gone elsewhere for the night."

Sarah followed Tria into a small house. Little drawings were tacked up on the walls, and a teddy bear lay on the ground beside a chair. Sarah felt uncomfortable. Like an intruder.

_Why do we have to kick someone out of their own house in order to stay the night?_ Sarah thought. _That's not right . . . _

Tria led her to a small room in the back of the house that must have belonged to the parents. Though Sarah was uneasy about sleeping in a stranger's bed, her exhaustion from a long day of traveling won over her unease, and the moment she lay down on the soft blankets, she fell asleep.

The events of that day turned into a pattern of sorts. The next day, Sarah found herself once again riding in her carriage with no company but her history books, spending her time alternating between reading and watching the landscape slowly change out her carriage window. That night, she again slept in a small farmhouse that had been vacated for her, again feeling that it wasn't right for someone to have been removed from their home so that she could have a roof over her head for a night. The next day, and the one after that, were also the same.

A week dragged by, following the same pattern. And on the eighth day, just when Sarah began to think that she would be stuck traveling in a carriage for the next month, she spied a collection of buildings in the distance. Slowly, as her caravan approached, the collection of buildings materialized into a small, flat city. The buildings were short and squat, and seemed to have no distinguishing features. First, they passed clusters of what turned out to be houses. People came out of them to openly stare at the procession of carriages, and Sarah sat back away from the window to try and avoid the scrutiny.

Finally, her carriage stopped. She heard the decree-announcing man say something in a regal voice, and her carriage door opened slowly. A hand reached out, and Sarah took it, allowing the person to help her out of the carriage. Once she had stepped onto the ground, Sarah looked up at the person who had helped her.

He was a tall man. Taller than Jareth, who was already a full head taller than Sarah. He had dark brown hair that had a sun-bronzed look to it, which he wore cropped short. His skin was very tan, and his eyes were a soft hazel. In the moment after taking this all in, Sarah could also see the similarities between him and Jareth in his face. His cheekbones, though not as sharp, still defined his face. His eyes, Sarah noticed with a jolt, were the same as Jareth's were. Not in color or in the unevenness of the pupils, but in the way that his eyebrows arched up away from his eyelids to meet a curve of darker skin that ran upwards from the outer point of his eyes. His eyelids, like Jareth's, were also white, though the color wasn't as bright a white as Jareth's.

He gave her a small bow, then released her hand. "I am Hurren, Jareth's brother," the man said in a deep but quiet voice. "Welcome to the Plains."

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

For the rest of the afternoon, while the servants accompanying her on her Tour unloaded the contents of the wagons and carted them inside, Sarah walked with Hurren throughout Pylon, the capital of the Plains. The buildings were short and box-like, with at least six corners per building – very different to the houses and buildings that Sarah was used to seeing in the Goblin City. Hurren, though he was a king, did not live in a castle, but rather what Sarah thought of in her head as the largest box. The streets were nothing more than packed dirt.

When Sarah asked Hurren about the layout of the city, he replied that the buildings had multiple corners to break the wind more easily, which was also the reason that they were low to the ground. And it was very gusty. Sarah's skirt whipped around her legs, and her hair blew in her face and into her mouth constantly. When she commented on it, Hurren merely said, "It isn't very windy today."

Hurren's voice, though deep, was quiet, and he seemed to be a man of few words. He was thickly-built, with large muscles and calloused hands that spoke of much work in the fields that surrounded Pylon. As far as Sarah could see in any direction, fields of grasses and grains stretched away from her. And far off in the distance, to the east, lay a small mountain range.

Hurren led her down one of the main streets. "Every first day of the week, this street is lined with vendors," he told her. "It is the only bargaining day each week. All other days are spent at work."

People stopped everywhere to openly gawk and stare at Sarah, causing her to blush. She constantly felt like looking down, but was also hard-pressed not to stare back. They all wore the strangest clothes. Tight leggings, tight-fitting shirts – everything was long-sleeved and very tight. Nothing was flowy or loose. It was as if every person was wearing a bodysuit, and all the clothing was in varying shades of brown. All the men had hair that was cropped shot, and all the women wore their hair in one long braid over one shoulder. Sarah immediately saw the reason for that, though, as none of their hair was blowing around in their faces.

After a couple minutes of the constant staring, Hurren noticed Sarah trying to avoid meeting peoples' eyes, and said, "They are unused to having visitors here, much less royalty. They should stop staring at you after a week or two."

_Oh yeah. _

Sarah's mind jolted painfully. _I have an entire month to spend here,_ she thought unhappily. _I am in a city full of people who seem to think I'm the Mona Lisa, the wind is thrashing my body right now, and Jareth is not here. _

Sarah walked with Hurren through the streets as he quietly pointed out things of importance. The mills, which were by far the largest buildings in the city, larger even than Hurren's own "castle." The stables, which housed the largest number of horses in one place in the entire Underground. And the factories, which Hurren told her were responsible for making most of the Underground's cloth and leather materials, and were built partially underground so as to allow for more room while still having a low amount of wind resistance.

Sarah tried her best to pay attention, but fighting the wind and taking everything in quickly became exhausting, and so she was thankful when Hurren led her back to his residence. Upon entering, Hurren motioned a young woman forward from a side door. She stood before Sarah and curtsied. "Your Highness," she said in a low voice.

"This is Carinn," Hurren said. "She will be your maid exclusively during your stay. She will assist you and your personal maid in the customs of Pylon. Ask her any question that you might have and she will answer it or find the answer for you."

Sarah thanked Hurren, who then wished her goodnight and departed.

"If you would follow me, Your Highness," Carinn murmured, curtsying again. Sarah followed Carinn down a long hallway in the opposite direction that Hurren had gone and into a room. Tria was already there. Many boxes had already been unpacked, and Sarah saw that a simple vanity table had already been loaded with things from her vanity in the Goblin City. Familiar dresses peeked out from the wardrobe. Even her rug was placed in the same spot by her bed in this new room.

Sarah felt a rush of gratitude for these things, these small but meaningful things that Tria had packed to help her transition from place to place.

Tria beckoned her to sit at the table and began to brush her hair. Sarah's eyes filled reflexively with tears at each snarl and tangle the brush caught on.

_Fifteen minutes outside in the wind and I have a rat's next on my head_, Sarah thought as Tria gently worked at each knot in her hair. _One month here and I won't have any scalp left to speak of._

Carinn, who had disappeared without Sarah noticing, brought Sarah a tray of food, which she gratefully ate without a word. Finally, Sarah's hair was once again brushed smooth.

"Tria and I will wake you tomorrow to begin the day," murmured Carinn again in her soft voice. "Goodnight, Your Highness."

Sarah bade both of them goodnight and slipped into her bed. The sheets were soft, so soft, and her pillow had never felt so wonderful. Sleep came quickly, pulling Sarah into its black oblivion.

And so began her Grande Tour.


	4. The First Day

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Labyrinth_ or any of its characters – all are the property of Jim Henson, et. al.

**Becoming a Queen**

by Wackysocks

Chapter 4: The First Day

Sarah was woken by voices. Slowly, she opened her eyes and yawned. Rolling over, she saw that the voices belonged to Tria and Carinn, who seemed to be explaining something about a small jar she held in her hand. Tria glanced at the bed, noticed that Sarah was awake, and immediately curtsied.

"Good morning, Your Highness," she said quietly. Carinn followed suit.

"Good morning, Your Highness," she said. "I hope you slept well?"

"Yes, thank you," Sarah said, her voice cracking slightly. She cleared her throat. "Is it time to get up?"

Carinn gave her a small smile. "Indeed, Your Highness. I have just finished explaining to Tria how to do your hair for the remainder of the time you are here."

Sarah sat up, interested now. "How is that?"

"If Your Highness would come to the vanity, I will show you," Carinn responded. Sarah did as she was asked.

"Start with brushing all her hair to one side," Carinn said to Tria, brushing Sarah's hair as she spoke. "Then smooth her entire head with the oil." Carinn dipped her fingers into the jar and scooped out a large gob of a thick brown paste, which she proceeded to smooth over Sarah's head, keeping her hair off to the side. Sarah's eyes widened. _What in the world . . . _

Carinn proceeded like this until Sarah's entire head was covered in a layer of the paste. "Once you have covered her head," she continued, "Separate her hair into three strands for a braid and oil them individually. Once you have done this, braid them and secure the end with twine." Carinn did the actions as she spoke, and when she was finished, Sarah had a slickly-oiled head, with her hair in a tight braid that ended just over her left shoulder.

Sarah stared into the mirror, aghast. _I have a rat tail on my head,_ she thought in horror.

Carinn saw her expression. "Do not worry, Your Highness," she said. "I know it can come as a shock at first, but every woman in Pylon wears her hair like this every day. It keeps your hair secure against the wind. You will be very thankful for it by the end of the day."

Next, Carinn braided Tria's hair. In minutes, Tria had a braid identical to Sarah's. Then Carinn produced two sets of clothing, gave them to Tria, and left the room.

Sarah took one of the sets of clothing from Tria, and found that it was a dark brown shirt and pair of leggings that looked far too small for her. "Uhhh, I don't think these will fit . . ." she said.

Tria gave her a small smile. "They are very tight-fitting, Your Highness, but they will fit. Carinn told me that they are also worn because of the wind – loose clothing blows around and gets caught easily."

For the next several minutes, Sarah tugged the pants and shirt on with Tria's help. When she was finished, she looked at the mirror and tried to suppress her horror. Her hair, oiled and tightly braided, appeared much darker due to the brown paste that Carinn had rubbed all over her head. And her clothes . . . they fit her so _tightly_. Every curve was illuminated. Since the transformation had left her body significantly more toned than it had been previously, everything that was illuminated was so . . . womanly.

_I've never worn clothes this tight in my entire life_, thought Sarah in shock. _I wonder what Jareth would think if he saw me dressed like this. _The thought made her blush.

After Tria finished tugging on her own clothing, she led them out of the room and down a hallway to a small dining room. Hurren was waiting for her there, already dressed in the tight clothing that he and everyone else had been wearing yesterday. Sarah couldn't help but notice how muscular he was.

_I must have been too tired to notice yesterday_, she thought. _He kind of looks like he's going to burst out of his shirt_. And strangely, it wasn't nearly as attractive to her as it once might have been. She much preferred the way Jareth looked – thin and lithe and toned. A pang shot through her heart, and Sarah forced herself to smile and greet Hurren as they sat down to eat.

It was a simple breakfast, and Hurren did not say much during the meal. Afterwards, he indicated that she follow him, and led them outside. The wind was much stronger today, and Sarah initially found walking difficult. Hurren led them to a small shed-like structure on the side of the house, from which he produced a long, curved knife, a pair of gloves, and a canteen of water. These, he gave to Sarah. Then, he got identical items for himself. He put on the gloves and looped the canteen diagonally across his body, then set off walking for the edge of town. Sarah copied him and hurriedly tried to keep up.

As they were walking, Hurren looked at her and said, "Everyone in the Plains is involved in the business of harvesting and taking care of the various crops. Today, we are cutting down ripe stalks of pipeweed. Just follow my example."

Sarah quickly learned what he meant. Reaching the edge of town, he walked into a large field of the wheat-like stalks that Sarah had seen during her journey. Though the stalks were much taller than Sarah, Hurren was nearly as tall as the tops of the stalks. Once they had walked a ways out, Hurren stopped. He swung the canteen to the side, motioned to Sarah to step back, and swung his long knife towards the bottom of the stalk. The blade cut into the bottom. Two more chops and the stalk fell, though it didn't far fall as the nearby stalks were still standing and held it up.

"That's how it's done," Hurren said, looking at Sarah. "It doesn't matter how ragged the bottom is. Just start chopping on the other side of me." Then he turned and with two chops, cut down the next stalk.

_Alright,_ Sarah thought determinedly. _Custom number one of the Plains – everybody participates and everybody works. I'm strong – how hard can this be?_

Very hard.

Where it had taken Hurren only two or three chops to cut down a stalk, it took Sarah eight on her first one. The stalks were thick and fibrous, making cutting them difficult. She also quickly learned what Hurren had meant about the raggedness – when her stalks finally fell, they looked like someone had chewed them through rather than chopped them down.

They worked all day. When it was too dark to work any further, Hurren seemed to suddenly appear next to her. "We have finished for today," he said. Sarah stood up and stretched her back. Looking behind her, she felt a rush of pride at the long swatch of pipeweed stalks that she had felled. It was nowhere near as long as Hurren's, of course, but it was still quite a distance.

"Well done," Hurren said quietly, giving her the first smile she had ever seen from him. Then, he began walking back. Sarah followed him. Since they had cut down so many pipeweeds, as had the others working in the field around them, the wind was stronger, and Sarah felt a strong rush of gratitude for her tightly bound hair. Though it had seemed so repulsive in the morning, not a hair was out of place now. Even her clothes were a blessing in disguise. They were thick, protected her well from the whips of pipeweed stalks and wind, and didn't blow around or get in her way like her dress had the previous day.

When they finally reached Hurren's house, they returned their knives, gloves, and now-empty canteens to the shed. Going inside, Sarah was surprised when Carinn immediately emerged from the side and Hurren bid her goodnight, but she did not complain. Back in her room, food was waiting for her on her vanity table.

A sudden wave of tiredness overtook her, and she gratefully sat down in her chair and began to eat. Tria, who had worked at Sarah's side all day, followed her into the room. While Sarah ate, Carinn quietly explained to Tria how to brush the oil out of Sarah's hair with a wet brush and a salve. And by the time Sarah was done eating, her hair was damp, shiny, and soft.

Eating had made her more exhausted, and she quietly allowed Carinn and Tria to help her pull her tight clothes off and then gratefully sank into her bed, where she was asleep almost as soon as she laid her head on the pillow.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Sarah worked in the fields every day for the first week. They did different things every day, from cutting down different grains or grasses to pushing small handfuls of powder into the soft earth around the bases of the stalks. And though Sarah was very sore the first couple of days, by end of the week, she felt noticeably stronger, though this did not help the crippling exhaustion she always felt at the end of each day, when she would tumble right into bed after eating.

At the end of the sixth day, Carinn paused while helping Sarah out of her leggings.

"Your Highness, I thought I would let you know that we are not going into the fields tomorrow."

Though she was tired, Sarah paused in surprise. "We're not?"

"No, Your Highness," Carinn replied. "Tomorrow is bargaining day. Many people stay in from the fields to buy and trade wares. I will wake you and Tria, and tomorrow, we will stay in the city and visit the vendors."

"Oh," Sarah said, her mind suddenly bringing to mind memories of street fairs that she had visited with her dad and Karen many years ago.

"Good night," Carinn said, curtsying. Sarah nodded to her, and she left the room. And as soon as she was gone, Sarah was asleep.


	5. Time in the Plains

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Labyrinth_ or any of its characters – all are the property of Jim Henson, et. al.

**Becoming a Queen**

by Wackysocks

Chapter 5: Time in the Plains

The next day began as usual. Tria oiled and braided her hair, and while Carinn did Tria's, Sarah tugged on her leggings and fitted shirt. But this time, Hurren did not meet her for breakfast. Instead, Sarah ate at the table by herself. Once she finished, Tria and Carinn rejoined her, and they all went outside into the streets.

Pylon had been transformed overnight. The long streets that led every direction were lined with vendors. Canvas roofs and walls had been set up with ropes that were strung between the buildings, making the sky thick with ropes over Sarah's head. Foods, clothing and gifts were everywhere, and Sarah was hard-pressed to look at everything.

Carinn pressed a small leather bag into her hand. "From His Highness," she murmured.

Sarah peeked inside to see a small handful of golden coins. "Oh," she said in surprise. "Thank y- thank him for me, will you?" Carinn curtsied in acquiescence.

Sarah quickly lost track of time in the streets. When she got hungry, she bought small, toasted flatbreads for herself and the two maids that tasted earthy and flavorful, and filled up her stomach faster than she thought possible. She bought several things. A small leather bag embroidered with white flowers around the top, into which she transferred the rest of the coins that Hurren had given her. Soft leather moccasins that reminded Sarah somewhat painfully of moccasins that Elaine had been fond of wearing Aboveground. Two sets of the Plains clothing that she had been wearing all week long – one in a deep, dark brown and the other in a jet black.

The people that both sold and bought wares around her appeared at first glance to be humans. But when Sarah looked closer, she saw that they were indeed immortals, as she now was. They did not have the same eye shape and coloring as her fiancé and Hurren, but their features were sharper, their bodies stronger. Every one of them had the same darker skin and sun-bronzed hair that Hurren did, which Sarah took to be a product of working in the sun for years and years of their lives. There was little concept of fashion here. Because of the constant wind, which Sarah had grown accustomed to almost without realizing it, their hair was always worn the same and the tight fit of their clothing never changed. Sometimes, though, Sarah saw embroidery on sleeves or hems.

Before Sarah knew it, the sun was setting and Carinn was saying in her quiet voice that they should return to the house soon.

Sarah was almost back to the house when a small stand caught her eye. She paused in the streets, looking at the contents on the small table, a small lump in her throat. "One moment," she muttered to Carinn, dodging out of the way of passers-by and ducking under the vendor's canvas roof.

Pairs of leather gloves covered the table. Brown, black, light tan, and even a few pairs of cream-colored gloves that were marked for a higher price than the others.

The image of Jareth's hands was firmly fixed in Sarah's mind. Or rather, the gloves on his hands. She had not seen his hands ungloved in her entire time Underground. Granted, that was only a couple months, but it felt much longer.

"May I help you, Your Highness?" the vendor asked, bobbing his head nervously. Sarah glanced at him. "Umm, yes actually," she said, her voice unexpectedly shaky. "I'd like a pair of those and those," she said, indicating the lightest of the cream-colored gloves and the blackest of the black ones.

Minutes later, the vendor had helped her choose a size and wrapped up her purchases for her. Tria took the package from her without question, and they returned to the house.

Hurren was nowhere to be seen, so Sarah once again ate by herself. After her meal, she retired early, figuring that tomorrow was probably going to be another day of work.

That night was the first night she dreamed of him.

_She was standing on the edge of the city, wearing the tight-fitting, brown outfit she had worn all week. Her hair was tightly oiled and braided. And though the wind whipped at her body as fiercely as it had all week long, it didn't seem to touch him at all. _

_He was standing thirty yards away from her in the small grasses at the edge of the city, looking at her. He wore all-black, fitted clothing. The same clothing that he had worn when he had sung to her in the room of stairs, when she had been desperately searching for Toby. She could see now the influence of the Plains on his clothing. Though his was not nearly as tight as the clothing worn by the men of the Plains, it was fitted to his frame. _

_He said nothing to her, but just looked at her in the way that she had often caught him looking at her when she hadn't known he was there. Just looking. _

_Sarah tried to speak, but the words stuck, piling up on top of each other and firmly lodging themselves into a ball in her throat._

_After a few seconds, he turned and began to walk away from her into the grasses, which grew in height as he walked farther away from the city._

_Sarah felt panic rising as she watched him go. _Don't leave_, she thought desperately. _Don't leave me.

_But he didn't look back or stop walking. And in just a few seconds more, his form was completely swallowed by the grasses, which continued to wave in the wind as if nothing had happened. _

_And Sarah was left alone._

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

The next week was filled with work, as Sarah had anticipated. But instead of taking her into the fields, Hurren took her to the mills, where Sarah saw hundreds of people sitting at long benches, shelling various grains by hand and placing all the pieces into large bins. The grains were then taken to another room where they were ground, and then to another, where they were mixed with various ingredients for different kinds of bread. In the last room, Hurren took a piece of flatbread from tray and broke it, giving pieces to her and Tria. It was slightly different than the bread Sarah had bought for them the day before, with a sharper taste.

Then, they went back to the first room, where everybody was shelling the large stalks from the fields. Hurren led her to the end of a bench, and they sat down to shell. That week, they participated in all parts of the process. It wasn't as exhausting as working in the fields, but it did tend to make her back sore, and Sarah found it difficult not to fidget after sitting or standing in one place for so long. At the end of her week in the mills, she and Hurren revisited each stage in the bread-making process again, and at the end of the day, Sarah was given the bread that she had just made to keep. According to Hurren, the type of bread that they had made that day was meant for travelling, so Sarah need not worry about it going bad in the trunk where she was placing all of her purchases and acquisitions from her time in the Plains.

The next week, they worked in the stables. Sarah learned that horses in the Plains were mainly used for transport. Transporting stalks from the fields to the city, transporting supplies from the city to the far reaches of the Plains, and even for transporting products into and out of the Plains from other lands.

One solid day was spent mucking out stables, while another day was spent learning how horses were bred, broken, and cared for. Between weeks, Sarah spent the bargaining days in the streets with Carinn and Tria, looking at wares and buying small things here and there until the sun went down. And when Sarah voiced a concern about where all of her purchases would be kept on her journey, Tria informed her that Jareth had sent three empty trunks along with her for her to fill at each place in her journey. This had made Sarah's throat tighten involuntarily, and she had hurriedly muttered "Oh" before ducking into the next stall in order to hide the emotion on her face.

The following week was spent in the cloth and leather factories, where Sarah learned about and participated in the processes for making various cloths and leathers. Some materials, she saw, were for clothing that was not worn in the Plains at all. Hurren caught her staring at some of these cloths and said in his quiet voice, "Those are made for clothing that is worn in the Mountains, where you will be traveling to next. A load of various materials will be joining your caravan to complete the latest order."

The more time Sarah spent with Hurren, the less she felt like she knew him. He was quiet, and said hardly anything. Sarah had never seen him smile, save for the one small smile that he had given her on her first day in the fields. He never talked about anything personal, and worked alongside citizens of the Plains in any and every job. He seemed above nothing, which impressed Sarah, and from the way the people treated him, Sarah could tell that his subjects deeply admired and respected him. Other than a small number of servants, he lived alone in his house, and Sarah could not help but wonder if he had ever been interested in a woman.

Sarah's last day in the factories was spent in the one small room where all embroidery was done. Sarah spent all day laboriously embroidering white flowers around the hem of a small pair of dark brown gloves, and was surprised to find at the end of the day that they were hers to keep. As she walked with Hurren back to his house that night, her new pair of gloves clutched tightly in her hands, Hurren said quietly, "Tomorrow is bargaining day, and also your last day in the Plains. You will leave the following morning before first light."

Sarah's eyes widened. Before she had even realized it, a month had passed. Once she thought about it, though, it was no wonder that it had seemed to pass by so quickly. Work and learning had filled every hours of every day. The fields, the mills, the stables, the factories – it was all so much. That night, after her maids had gone, Sarah lay in bed thinking about her time in the Plains.

_I've learned so much_, she mused. _I wonder if I can ever look at a piece of bread or a pair of gloves the same way again, now that I know how much work goes into making them. _

Her eyes wandered over to the trunk in the corner, almost overflowing with things from the Plains. The clothes she had been wearing all week long. Purchases from the various bargaining days. The pair of gloves she had embroidered earlier lay on top. Looking at them reminded her of the other pairs of gloves that she had purchased on her very first Bargaining Day. Sarah closed her eyes and turned over, curling up into a ball and clutching her blankets.

_Jareth,_ she thought desperately. _I miss you so much. I think of you every day. If only I knew what you were thinking as well. _

Sarah tried to imagine what it would be like to see him again. To give him the gloves she had bought in the Plains. Would they fit? Would he like them? She tried to imagine what he would say to her.

But as hard as she tried, she couldn't quite remember the exact sound of his voice. And when she finally fell asleep, eyes pricking and heart beating painfully in her chest, she once again dreamed that she was standing at the edge of the city, watching as he walked away from her into the fields without saying a word.


	6. The Next Leg of the Journey

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Labyrinth_ or any of its characters – all are the property of Jim Henson, et. al.

**Becoming a Queen**

by Wackysocks

Chapter 7: The Next Leg of the Journey

Tria woke her early – earlier than she had woken to leave the Goblin City for the Plains. While Sarah sat blearily at her vanity table, Tria braided her hair. This time, though, Tria did not oil it, nor did she braid it as tightly as it had been braided for the last month.

As Sarah was tugging on her leggings, she noticed that the trunk in the corner was now gone, and that the room was once again stripped bare of the personal touches that had made it hers. Once she was dressed, she ate breakfast with Hurren at the table. It was once again a wordless affair, which caused Sarah to hide a smile. No matter the occasion, it seemed as if Hurren had either little or nothing to say.

_I'm going to miss him,_ Sarah realized with surprise. _He is such a good man. He will be a good brother. _

Once they were finished, Sarah followed Hurren out to the front of the house. Her caravan of wagons had been set up there, with her carriage directly in front of the house. A servant stood next to it, his hand on the door handle, waiting for her to approach.

Sarah turned to Hurren. "Your Highness," he said, bowing his head. "It has been a pleasure to have you stay here. I hope you have enjoyed your time in the Plains."

"I did," Sarah said, curtsying to him. "So much. I will see you at the wedding, yes?"

Hurren nodded.

"Alright," Sarah said. "Well, goodbye."

"Goodbye, Princess," Hurren responded.

Sarah walked to the door of her carriage. The attendant opened it, she climbed in, and he closed the door. Seconds later, she was moving, and Hurren's house was quickly left behind. Sarah watched the dark streets of Pylon move by, hardly believing that she was leaving again.

She leaned back against the cushions of the carriage and closed her eyes. _Next stop, Mountains_.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Traveling away from Pylon took even longer than it had to get there from the Goblin City, and Sarah spent the next week and a half riding in the carriage, alternating between reading and watching the fields go by. Every night, she slept in someone's small farmhouse, and was woken before the sunrise by Tria to continue the journey. The Mountains approached, first slowly, then quickly, growing in size until the immensity of the rocky peaks overwhelmed Sarah with awe.

The fields had turned into grasses, which tapered off right up to the foot of the mountain range, where they stopped altogether. At this point, Sarah felt a change in the incline of her carriage, and her caravan began to ascend. Sarah's caravan ascended all day long, and it was almost sunset when she saw a gate pass by over her carriage.

The gate must have marked the edge of the city, for now there were houses everywhere, packed in tightly and stacked on top of each other, with flowers growing in window boxes. Little shops were interspersed between them, growing in frequency until the entire bottom layer of buildings were all made of shops, with what Sarah assumed to be the shop owners' houses above them.

The streets and sidewalks were made of stone, and people were everywhere. Like in Pylon, they also stopped to stare, but this time with excitement. Sarah could see them pointing out her carriage and speaking excitedly to their companions. Several people began to follow her caravan as they continued to ascend through the streets, though at a lesser incline now.

Just as the sun began to set, Sarah's carriage stopped. An attendant walked up and opened her door, holding out his hand to help her out. Sarah thanked him, then looked in front of her. And as she did, she felt her mouth drop open, her heart involuntarily skipping a beat.

Standing in front of her was the most beautiful man Sarah had ever seen, bar none. He was not quite as tall as Hurren, but still taller than Jareth. He had longer, jet-black hair that had that effortlessly tossed-about style of stars Sarah had once seen on the red carpet, fair skin, and the face of an Adonis – a combination that made the dark black arched eyebrows and bright white eyelids of royalty over his startlingly blue eyes stand out from his face much more strikingly than they had on Hurren. He wore dark clothing – a black coat, black leggings, and knee-high black boots. His hands were ungloved.

Sarah hardly had time to take all this in before he unleashed a dazzlingly beautiful smile on her and moved forward to greet her.

"Sarah!" he said, as if he had known her his whole life and was welcoming her home after a long absence instead of just meeting her for the first time. He bent down, clasped her right hand in both of his, and brought her hand up to his mouth to kiss it. Sarah flushed. He straightened a little, his eyes meeting hers again, keeping her hand pressed in his.

"Welcome," he said joyously, smiling widely at her again. "I am Aric, King of the Mountains. I cannot tell you how delighted I am to have you here."

Sarah couldn't help but smile back. "I am glad to be here," she responded.

He straightened the rest of the way and addressed the crowd of people that had gathered to follow Sarah's caravan. "Her Highness, the Princess Sarah," he announced in a loud voice, raising her hand up in the air. The crowd broke into wild cheering, and Sarah felt her face grow hot. Aric held this pose with her for several seconds, then lowered her hand, though keeping it in his. He muttered something to a man standing to his right, who immediately signaled servants to begin unloading her caravan.

Aric turned to smile at her again and turned to lead her away from her caravan. Sarah could hardly take his eyes off his face. "Shall we?" he asked, gesturing in front of them.

Sarah tore her eyes away to look in front of her and gasped. Standing there was an enormous black and charcoal gray castle – one that reminded her of castles she had seen in movies when she was a human. The Disney castle, perhaps. The castle from _Beauty and the Beast_, or _Cinderella_. Over a dozen towers shot into the sky, ending in long points. Sarah gaped.

"It's quite something, isn't it?" Aric said with pride in his voice. "I never get tired of looking at it. But come! You must be exhausted from your journey. Let's get you inside."

And with that, he led her inside. At this point, Sarah was glad that he had not let go of her hand, for it was all she could do to keep walking. The entryway led into an enormous entrance hall. Everything was richly furnished and impeccably clean. Servants paused what they were doing to curtsy deeply and say "Your Highness." Sarah could only stare back. Aric led her into a side room, where he led her to a chair. She had hardly sat down when servants entered with a tray of breads, fruits, and cheeses, which they placed on a small table next to Sarah's chair. Aric sat in a chair across from her. When the servants had left the room, he smiled widely at her.

"So!" he began exuberantly. "How was your journey? I hope it was well?"

Sarah found it incredibly easy to talk to Aric. He made conversation effortless and listened intently while also filling Sarah's little plate with pieces of food from the tray and pouring her a glass of wine. He was very different from both of his brothers, and not only in physical beauty. He spoke effortlessly, with none of Hurren's silence or Jareth's reserve. He was quick to laugh, and his smile frequently made Sarah feel somewhat dazed.

After for what seemed like hardly any time at all, the tray was empty and Sarah was feeling warm and full from the food and wine. Aric glanced up at a clock on the wall.

"My goodness, the time!" he exclaimed. "Sarah," he said, turning back to her, "I am _ever_ so sorry to have kept you so long. You must be exhausted from your travel here."

"Oh no, I-" Sarah began, but he interrupted her protests.

"I am also positive that my brother has had you doing all sorts of menial work all month long, like some kind of field slave."

Before Sarah could reply, Aric took her hand and flipped it over, tracing her palm with his thumb. Suddenly, Sarah felt self-conscious about the calluses that formed on her hands from her time in the Plains – products of her hard work in the fields, the mills, the stables, the factories. Aric frowned at them, then looked up at her with a mournful expression on his face. "Sarah, I can promise you that you will be treated far better here."

Sarah had no idea what to say. That she hadn't minded the work, that she had rather enjoyed it? No, that had to be considered rude . . . how did one disagree with a king? Or should she just agree with him out of respect?

Before she could decide, Aric turned and snapped his fingers in the air. A servant appeared seemingly from nowhere and curtsied. "Your Highness?" she asked.

"Take the Princess Sarah to the spa and then to her rooms," he instructed. Turning back to her, he stood up and raised her up with the hand that still held hers. He smiled again. "Sarah, it was a pleasure to converse with you tonight. My servants will show you to your suite. I sincerely hope that you have a restful night, and I will see you tomorrow morning." He bent over and kissed the palm of her hand, his lips lingering on the calluses on her fingertips.

"Th-thank you," Sarah stammered. He nodded, still smiling, and gestured for her to follow the servant that waited. As Sarah followed the servant down hallways and up flights of stairs, her mind reeled with everything. The long traveling she had done today. The crowds, the overwhelming affluence of the Mountains and the mountain castle, the food, the wine, Aric . . .

A minute or so later, Sarah and the servant arrived at a door at the end of a long corridor. The servant opened it and bowed Sarah in. Upon entering the room, Sarah's eyes widened in shock.

It was the most elaborate spa Sarah had ever seen. A large rock pool of water filled most of the room, steam wafting up from the surface in large curls. Small side tables were everywhere. Some had stacks of white towels on them, while others were laden with several small jars and still another had large leaves sitting next to a small mortar and pestle. Maids in white uniforms curtsied quietly to her. One of the maids, whose uniform had a small lavender lily embroidered on the collar, walked up to her and curtsied again.

"Your Highness, my name is Calla, Mistress of the Spas. If you will allow us to assist you, we will begin."

Sarah nodded mutely. Calla beckoned two of the maids forward. They led Sarah behind a curtain and helped her remove the leggings and fitted Plains shirt she had been wearing. Self-conscious, Sarah wrapped herself in a thick, white towel to walk to the pool, then eased herself into the hot water.

"Ohhhh," Sarah breathed involuntarily. The heat was amazing, shooting straight into her body and instantly relaxing her muscles. Gentle hands undid her braid, washed her hair, and massaged her head with oil that smelled like lavender and made Sarah feel sleepy.

After the pool, Sarah lay down on a bench and closed her eyes while knots were kneaded out of her back by capable hands. Her hands and feet were massaged, and her arms and legs, until Sarah felt like one enormous limp noodle. Every single muscle on her body was relaxed and tingling, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep her eyes open. After being massaged, her body was rubbed with oils and lotions that seemed to lock warmth into her limbs. And also contribute more to her sleepiness.

Finally, Calla spoke again. "Thank you for your visit, Your Highness," she said. "The servant who brought you here is waiting to show you to your suite. Please do come and visit us again."

Sarah sat up and was handed a thick white bathrobe to wrap herself in. Lavender slippers were waiting by her feet. All the maids curtsied again as Calla opened the door for her.

"Thank you," Sarah said.

"Your Highness," they responded quietly.

The servant was indeed waiting for her outside the door, and quietly led Sarah to her rooms.

Sarah had been given an entire suite of rooms, which included her own parlor, bedroom, and bathroom. An additional room held a small library with a fireplace and windows that overlooked the city, which sparkled with lights that lit up the night. The view was astonishingly high – Aric must have placed her in one of the many towers. It took Sarah's breath away.

After the servant had shown Sarah each of her rooms, she left. Part of Sarah was dying to explore more, but the bed looked so inviting and soft, and Sarah was so tired . . . her head had hardly touched the pillow, and she was asleep.


	7. The Mountains

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Labyrinth_ or any of its characters – all are the property of Jim Henson, et. al.

**Becoming a Queen**

by Wackysocks

Chapter 7: The Mountains

The next morning, Sarah woke to soft light shining through one of her windows. She stretched her arms and legs under the sheets, luxuriating in the softness of the bed she had slept in. This was the first morning in Sarah didn't know how long that she hadn't been woken up at the break of dawn by a maid to get dressed for a lesson or a day of work.

Slowly, she sat up. While she was sleeping, Tria had once again placed all her familiar knickknacks around the room. Sarah yawned and smiled slowly. She would really have to thank Tria one of these days. She always did more than Sarah ever asked for.

Rising from the bed, Sarah shrugged on the white bathrobe and lavender slippers she had worn last night and walked over to her vanity table. A crisp, white sheet of paper sat there, with a note written on it in an elegant hand.

_Sarah,_

_Good morning! I thought you would want some extra rest today, as I'm sure you haven't rested much the past few weeks. When you are ready, pull the cord hanging on the wall and your new maid will attend to you._

_I look forward to seeing you later today._

_Yours, _

_Aric_

Looking up from the note, Sarah saw a silver cord hanging on the wall, the top of it disappearing into a tiny hole near the ceiling. Grasping it, she pulled. Somewhere far off, a bell pealed. Mere seconds later, she heard a small rap on the door.

"Come in," she called uncertainly.

A maid entered, closing the door behind her. She curtsied deeply. "You Highness, my name is Linore. I have been assigned to attend you during your stay in the Mountains."

Sarah nodded.

Linore walked past Sarah to open two closet doors that Sarah hadn't seen previously to reveal the biggest closet Sarah had ever seen. It was packed full of dresses in all colors. Sarah's mouth dropped open.

"Would Your Highness like to choose something to wear?" Linore asked, curtsying again.

"Uhhh," Sarah stammered, staring at the rows of dresses. _I have no idea what to wear. And from what I see of the styles, none of them are familiar._

"Why don't you pick something out for me?" Sarah suggested.

Linore's eyes widened in fright.

"I just have no idea what to wear," Sarah elaborated, wondering if she had insulted the girl somehow. "And since you know the styles of this land and I don't, perhaps you could help me?"

Linore's face relaxed somewhat. "If Your Highness would tell me what kind of dress she would like to wear, I could assist."

"Ummm, a simple one," said Sarah. "Nothing very fancy, since I think today is not too busy."

When Linore didn't move, Sarah expanded further. "Maybe a white one?"

This got a small smile from Linore, who then walked into the closet and emerged with a dress. It turned out to be a soft, filmy white dress with blue flowers embroidered on the hem, the sleeves, and around the collar. Linore brushed out Sarah's hair and tied it with a ribbon. When she had finished, she curtsied and handed Sarah a glittering black orb.

A crystal.

Even if Linore hadn't told her to cup it in her hands and blow on it, Sarah would have known what to do, and her heart clenched painfully as she thought momentarily about the clear, white crystals that Jareth conjured.

The orb took her to the entrance hall that she and Aric had walked through yesterday. As soon as she materialized there, she heard his voice from behind her.

"Sarah!"

Turning, she was once again struck by how beautiful he was. He still wore black, but his coat was unbuttoned at the top, revealing the smooth skin of his neck. Sarah bit the inside of her mouth, forcing herself to look up at his face and greet him.

"I trust you slept well?" he asked, his face radiating concern.

"Yes, thank you, I slept wonderfully," she replied.

"Wonderful," he said, all concern immediately gone. "Today, I thought we would do something light and walk through Cumaeda. Does that sound amenable to you?"

Sarah nodded yes, took the arm he offered her, and walked with him out of the castle.

Cumaeda, it turned out, was the name of the city. The capitol of the Mountains. And the city was as beautiful as the castle. Sarah could hardly take it all in. Shops lined the cobblestone streets. Flowers and trees grew in pots interspersed between the shops and houses. Horses and carriages passed back and forth on the street beside them, and people walked back forth around them on the sidewalks and also in the street. Signposts pointing one direction and another were made of black stone, and several were embedded with jewels. And everywhere around them, the massive peaks of the Mountains soared above them. It was majestic. It was beautiful.

As they walked, Aric gestured around them, pointing out various things of interest and explaining things that he had planned for her stay, which included learning the art of jewelry making. He also mentioned offhandedly that he planned a ball for her to be held near of her stay. Sarah just nodded and thanked him, squashing down the panic she felt inside when she heard that. She had only ever been to one ball – the engagement party that had been thrown for her and Jareth in the Royal City all those months ago, and the only reason she had made it through that was because of the man who had been beside her. Who would not be beside her for this one. Sarah forced the thought out of her head. It was several weeks until the ball. Not something to worry about right now.

Every person that passed them curtsied deeply to them, smiling upon rising. Sarah felt strange. The utter wealth of Cumaeda, the high deference with which she was treated, the fine clothes and walking the streets on Aric's arm – it was all so vastly different from Pylon.

When the sun had begun to set, Aric led them back to the castle. She ate dinner with him again, and then retired early with his promises of a much more engaging day the next day.

That night, Sarah dreamed again.

_She was standing on top of the tallest tower of the castle. The entire city of Cumaeda was spread out before her, lit up with lights to combat the dark of the night. Sarah could see past the city and down onto the fields that belonged to the Plains. It was a small space – only a few people could be up here. Looking to her right, Sarah saw that she was not alone._

_Jareth was with her. _

_He wore the clothes that he had worn in the dream she had once had of a ballroom – the cream-colored leggings, the begemmed, navy blue coat, the froths of white lace at his gloved hands. He regarded her silently, eyes betraying no emotion. _

"_Jareth," Sarah said desperately, surprised at her ability to speak. "Oh Jareth, you're here. I'm so glad you're here."_

_Sarah wanted to throw her arms around him, but her muscles wouldn't let her move. He did not move either. _

"_I've missed you so much," Sarah continued. "I wish you were here."_

_Jareth turned from her to look out over the city, still saying nothing. Sarah did not look away from him, fearing that he would disappear if she did. _

"_I love you, Jareth," she said desperately. He turned to look at her again. _

"_So much. I love you so much I can hardly stand it."_

_As she spoke the words, the nighttime around them darkened forcing Sarah to strain her eyes to see until the blackness was so thick that she couldn't see anything at all. _

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

The week was full of activities that Sarah went to alone. Aric met her for breakfast every morning, but every morning told her that he had pressing matters to attend to and would be unable to accompany her that day. As a result, a servant drove her in a horse and carriage to various places in Cumaeda. The first day, Sarah was taken to a large building several minutes' ride away. It turned out to be a large jewelry shop.

Actually, shop was the wrong word. After Sarah had been greeted by the owner and manager of the building, what she found was that it was one of many jewelry businesses in Cumaeda. The owner showed her the entire process of making the jewelry, first taking her to large rooms where the artists planned the designs. After that were the rooms where the stones were cut and filed, followed by the rooms where the metal was molded and shaped. Finally, more rooms where the jewels were fit to the metal, producing a final product. Sarah was fascinated by the entire process. After everything had been explained to her, she was brought back to the first set of rooms. To her delight, the owner told her that her entire first week in the Mountains was to be spent in this building, creating her own piece of jewelry.

Sarah spent the entire first day sketching various designs, finally deciding on a vine of flowers. The next day, Sarah brought her finished design sketch to a room of long tables, upon which sat trays of uncut stones in various colors. Other designers worked with the stones under mirrors, placing them on the paper sketch designs and moving them around with small tools to see how the different stones would look. Sarah joined them, and by the end of the day had decided on the colors and shapes of the stones she wanted. Another day was spent filing and shaping the stones. She ruined the first several stones that she tried to shape, but the workers teaching her showed no impatience or irritation at her mistakes. Molding the metal proved to be much harder, and Sarah's mentor for the day ended up making the mold for her bracelet for her, as Sarah couldn't keep the metal to hold a shape anything remotely close to her design. Setting the stones into the design was easier, and Sarah's heart glowed with pride at Aric's praise when she showed him her finished product.

"Sarah, this is exquisite!" he exclaimed, turning the band over and examining it. A green-gemmed leafy vine with swirling red flowers set in yellow gold curled around in a perfect circle. It wasn't floppy, like bracelets Sarah had bought back in college, but hard, like the bangles Elaine had sometimes worn. The flowers twisted around the wrist in an unending circle, such that it was impossible for anyone to discern where the design ended and where it begun. After a full minute of examination, Aric looked at Sarah with a serious expression on his face.

"You know, this is really beautiful work, Sarah," he said, "And I'm not just saying that. Jewelry is very popular here and in the Royal City. You could quite easily become a jewelry designer with designs like this."

"It was fun," Sarah replied somewhat bashfully. Aric looked at her quizzically, but said nothing more.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

The second week in the Mountains was just exciting as the first. Over breakfast, Aric presented her with a sparkling, wrapped gift, which turned out to contain a large, white carrying case. Sarah opened it. Multiple little grooves and slats lined both sides – all empty. Sarah looked up at Aric, puzzled.

Aric flashed his delighted smile at her. "This is a pica case," he said. And before Sarah could ask him what pica was, he added, "I hear you love to paint."

Pica, it turned out, was short for _picare rocks_, commonly called pica rocks. Angelo, the rotund pica manufacturer that Aric introduced her to after breakfast, owned a pica manufactory in Cumaeda. He was a couple inches shorter than Sarah and loved to talk.

"These rocks are mined in the mountains, melted down and re-cooled into sticks of various sizes," he said, gesturing to large bins of brightly colored chunks of rock. "From these rocks, we can create all types of paint. Chalk bases, oil bases, you name it! You have something that needs painting, we can create a paint for it."

Sarah could hardly tear her eyes away from the bins of pica rocks. Glittering colors, neon colors, pastel colors, and muted tones that hinted at soft expressions. Sarah's hands itched. She turned back to Angelo.

"What exactly will I be doing this week?" she asked excitedly.

Angelo grinned broadly. "You will be spending the entire week here in my manufactory and shop. You will melt down pica rocks from the mountains and mix them to create your own color palette. I believe Aric has given you a pica case? Yes? Good. You will fill it with every supply you may need to paint while you are our guest here this week. And also, you will be mixing a unique color that we have not yet created, to be named after yourself."

Melting pica rocks was a straightforward process. Pica rocks were placed into large cauldrons over carefully-tended fires and heated until they melted. From here, they were either placed into molds of various sizes to be cooled and labeled as pure colors, or added to other cauldrons to be mixed with other colors before the cooling process. All pica sticks, once cooled, were stamped with a mix of letters and numbers designating it as a specific color mix.

And of the mixes, there were thousands. Angelo showed Sarah the Pica Ledger, which contained every registered color mix in the land. Sarah ran her eyes down the long list of colors, aghast. Every color combination was calculated minutely, each color ingredient for every combination written down to the smallest degree.

"This ensures that colors remain the same across batches!" Angelo told her exuberantly, when Sarah asked about its detail. "I am not the only pica manufacturer in Cumaeda, Your Highness. But thanks to this Ledger, you can buy the same color both from me and from one of my competitors. These numbers are a matter of common publishing, so no one person can hold a monopoly on a certain color."

Sarah thanked Angelo quickly before he could further expound on the economics of pica rock sales.

The days that week passed quickly. Sarah poured incessantly over the Ledger and her own notes, mixing colors constantly and filling her pica case as they cooled. She frequently made mistakes, and apologized constantly to Angelo whenever she broke a mold or shattered a pica stick from improper cooling.

"No need, no need!" Angelo always said. "Your Highness is doing wonderfully!"

At the end of the week, Sarah placed her filled pica case in her trunk of keepsakes from the Mountains, along with her own copy of the Pica Ledger for future reference. And that evening over dinner, Sarah presented Aric with three small sticks of her original color. They were a dark, forest green with an ethereal streak of silver woven through, causing the green to look lighter in places and darker in others. _Princess Sarah_ was stamped into the side of each one instead of a mix of letters and numbers, designating her color as rarity, and therefore more expensive.

Aric exclaimed over them in delight. "What a beautiful color! What was your inspiration?"

Sarah's heart tightened. "The trees in the Labyrinth," she replied. "When the moonlight touches them, they look almost exactly like that."

Aric gazed at her fondly. "That they do, my dear. I remember them well."

Sarah raised her eyes, shocked. _Aric had been to the Labyrinth? _

Before she could press him further, Aric changed the subject, and Sarah forgot what she was going to ask. 

**Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has been reading along so far! And a special thanks to Junia Grey, who has reviewed almost every one of my chapters! I promised myself I wouldn't do any review-begging for this story, and I must say that it's more difficult to hold my tongue than I anticipated. Still, I'm not doing it.**

**Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!**

**Wackysocks**


	8. The Caves

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Labyrinth_ or any of its characters – all are the property of Jim Henson, et. al.

**Becoming a Queen**

by Wackysocks

Chapter 8: The Caves

Aric accompanied Sarah every day during her third week in the Mountains. The first day, after their customary breakfast, he presented her with a hard helmet that had a light mounted on top.

"What's this for?" Sarah asked in puzzlement. "Mining?"

"You'll see," he responded with a smile.

It turned out that Sarah's guess was not far off target. Aric took her to the caves, which were located outside of Cumaeda and took a much longer carriage ride to get to. There were two different kinds of caves in the Mountains, Aric explained. Caves used only for mining, from whence came most of the metals, gemstones, and pica rocks found throughout the Underground, and caves used as attractions.

"We won't be going into the mining caves," Aric said. "They are dirty, dusty, and rather dangerous. And as _I'm_ not one to force you to do any work, we'll be sticking with the others."

Sarah felt uneasy at this statement. There was no mistaking his reference to Hurren and her experience in the Plains, but Sarah still felt that he completely misunderstood her feelings about her experience there.

However, Sarah's unease quickly melted away once they and the other five members of their mini cave expedition had put on their gear, turned on their headlamps, and entered the first cave.

Glittery rock streaked through the cave walls. Stalagmites and stalactites reflected the light from their headlamps, shining crystalline in the darkness. Small pools of water revealed an abundance of strange cave-dwelling crustaceans and algae. When something small and furry bumped Sarah's leg, she jumped and shrieked in fright, but Aric laughed and assured her that it was only a cave lemming. Sarah looked down at her foot, and her headlamp illuminated a small, furry animal that looked like a cross between a marmot and a cat. It looked at her curiously for a couple seconds, then nuzzled her leg. One of the other members of their cave exploring party handed her some breadcrumbs, which Sarah fed to the small creature. This brought more of them out, and Sarah was followed by cave lemmings for the duration of the day. Sarah felt grateful for the darkness the carriage curtains provided when leaving the cave to return to Cumaeda, as her eyes had accustomed to the cave's darkness and the outside light, though the sun was setting, was somewhat painful.

"Did you like the cave?" Aric asked her on the ride back to the castle.

"Oh yes!" Sarah responded. "It was so fascinating."

"Good," Aric said with a satisfied smile. "The cave we visited today was Akrilon, a popular choice for beginning cavers. The cave lemmings are quite popular. Tomorrow and the day after, we will visit Garth and Far Belline. And at the end of this week, we will visit Mituril, the most famous cave in the Mountains. It's a much harder cave to get to and to explore, but it is the location of one of the most famous natural wonders in the Mountains."

Though Sarah pressed him, Aric would not reveal one detail about what it was. Sarah wondered about it for a few minutes, then gave up. After another minute, she smiled and said, "You know, Aboveground, cave explorers are called-"

"Spelunkers. I know," Aric interrupted. He smiled at her astonished face.

"How did you know that?" Sarah asked.

Aric closed his eyes and leaned back on the carriage cushions. "Before Jareth was born, I was the Goblin King," he said.

Sarah's mouth dropped open. Aric cracked open an eye and noted this with a grin. "After Jareth was grown enough to assume such a role, my father relinquished control of the Mountains to me and gave Jareth the Labyrinth. I have never regretted it. Tedious, dull, monotonous place full of asinine inhabitants. I was ever so relieved to leave."

Sarah felt as if she had been stung. How could one despise the Labyrinth? Or think its inhabitants were asinine? Hoggle, Ludo, Sir Didymus . . .

"I'll give it one thing, though," Aric said, his eyes fully open and focused on her face now. "Dealing with humans gives one a more greater understanding about human nature and the Aboveground, though no one could ever understand them fully. Humans are such strange creatures. No offense, of course."

Sarah shook her head to indicate that none was taken. This information gave her a whole new perspective on Aric. _He once had Jareth's kingdom_, Sarah thought. _Which explains why he understands so much about me. Why he didn't think my mention of college was strange, why he understood my want to sleep in on the first day, why he always seems to know exactly what I'm thinking or feeling when he looks at me . . ._

Aric began a new conversation, forcing Sarah to leave her thoughts for later.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Garth and Far Belline turned out to be just as beautiful as Akrilon. In Garth, Aric showed her a native population of cave bats, which he assured her did not bite, and Far Belline turned out to hold the most beautiful collection of cave paintings Sarah had ever seen. She could have spent all day examining them. Finally, at the end of the week, Aric and Sarah returned to the caves with their expedition members one final time to explore Mituril. Getting to Mituril was much more difficult than getting to any of the other caves. After getting out of the carriage in the morning, they spent a full hour and a half climbing up to where the cave was located. After suiting up, Aric gave her a warning.

"An underground river runs through this cave," he said. "Sometimes you will hear it below us, and other times you will hear it above us or in the walls to the sides. Nothing dangerous swims in it, but the cave walls do leak and create some slippery patches, so watch your step."

"Watch your step" turned out to be a bit of an understatement, in Sarah's opinion. Every step through this cave had to be meticulous and careful. Though the journeys through Akrilon and the other caves were relatively straight and flat, the journey through Mituril was not. The party had to ascend and descend at different parts of the path, and at one point, climb through a tunnel in the wall. The sound of whispering, rushing water was everywhere, and as Aric said, it changed locations. Sometimes, leaks in the wall caused misty sprays of water to make the path wet, and though she was careful, Sarah slipped several times. Aric, right behind her, caught her every time.

They hiked for what seemed like hours. Just as Sarah began feeling tired, she saw a soft glow illuminating the cave in the distance.

"What's that?" she asked Aric, puzzled.

"What people explore Mituril to see," Aric said, smiling.

Reaching the source of the glow took another thirty minutes. But when they finally got there, it took Sarah's breath away.

A rock pool took up almost the entire cave floor. Sarah could see that it was still part of the river, with a dark hole marking an entrance and an exit on either side. But what was the most beautiful was that the entire pool was lit up by an ethereal glow of greenish-blue light.

"Ohhh," Sarah breathed, walking to the edge of the pool. She got on her hands and knees, peering into the water. The waves cast reflection patterns on the walls, and the floor and walls of the pool looked smooth from years and years of water coursing through. Small, striped fish swam underneath the water.

Sarah felt Aric kneel next to her. "It's beautiful," she breathed.

"Would you like to swim?" he asked quietly. Sarah looked at him. His striking blue eyes held an undercurrent of excitement.

Sarah hesitated. But only for a moment. "Yes," she said.

Aric straightened. "Leave us," he said to the other members of the party. They nodded their assent and walked back from where they had come. In seconds, the darkness had swallowed them.

Turning back to Sarah, Aric said, "They haven't gone far. Just given us a little privacy."

A hint of unease ran through Sarah, but she brushed it off. _Don't be ridiculous_, she thought. _I don't want to swim around in front of a bunch of people anyways._

Aric took off his backpack and helmet, turning off the headlamp. Sarah copied him. Then, he took off his cave jacket, shirt, and shoes. Sarah blushed.

"Take off what you like," Aric said, seemingly unconcerned with the fact that he was now standing in front of Sarah, bare-chested and bare-footed, with only leggings on. "But remember that wearing wet clothes back is less than pleasant." Kneeling on the cave floor, he dove into the pool.

The water was startlingly clear. Sarah could see his muscular body cutting through the body as clearly as if he was at the surface. He swam to the bottom of the pool and grazed his hands along the bottom. Looking over his shoulder, he saw her watching him and smiled. Winked.

Sarah blushed again and tore her eyes away. She removed her shoes and cave jacket. Now, she was only wearing her leggings and the tight-fitting tank shirt that had been given to her that morning. Taking anything more off would reveal more than she was willing to let anyone see but Jareth. Not that he had ever wanted to, though.

Ignoring the aching stab of pain that pierced her heart after that stray thought, Sarah dove in after Aric. The water was warm and crystalline. Halfway to the bottom, Sarah looked up and saw the entrance to the pool from the underground river. The gaping black maw of the entrance was much larger underwater than it had looked from the surface, and a chill of fear shot down Sarah's spine. Panicking, Sarah turned and shot to the surface, grabbing hold of the rocky pool edge.

Aric surfaced a second later. "What's the matter?" he asked.

Sarah just looked at him, eyes wide.

"Ohhh," he said. He paddled toward the edge and grabbed the rock next to her, to her right. Turning, he once again looked into her eyes. "Sarah, there is nothing that will come out of that hole that will hurt you. Nothing dangerous swims in this river. In fact, the biggest thing you could encounter is the striped fish at the bottom of this pool. I also want to assure you that at this part of the river, the current slows almost to a stop. You will not be swept down the hole. I know it looks frightening, but I promise – nothing will hurt you."

Aric raised his left hand out of the water to cup Sarah's face. "Trust me," he said softly.

Under the intensity of his gaze, Sarah's mind shorted out. "Okay," she said quietly.

Aric smiled his brilliant, heart-stopping smile that never failed to make her feel unsteady. He grabbed her right hand and pushed away from the wall.

"Let go," he said.

Sarah took a deep breath and pushed away from the wall. Aric took a breath and dove underwater. Sarah took another deep breath and followed him. The black hole still looked terrifying, but holding Aric's hand made it better, somehow.

He gently pulled her down to the ocean floor and once again ran his hand over the surface. Sarah copied him. The floor was smooth, and Sarah could feel small undulations in the floor that the gentle currents of the water had created over centuries of flowing through. Next, Aric swam over to the cave wall, gently pulling Sarah with him. Here, Aric showed Sarah the source of the cave pool's ethereal glow.

Tiny plants that Sarah would have called sea urchins Aboveground grew out of little cracks or crevices in the wall. The spines were soft and thick to the touch, and each one emitted a glow of light – brightest at the tip, and dullest at the center where the spine met the body of the little creature.

After exploring the little wall urchins for a minute or two, Aric gently pulled her out to the center of the pool, where the little striped fish were swimming. He let go of her hand, paddled up away from the floor, and reached up to touch one of the little fish. The smallest of touches sent the little fish darting away. Aric laughed, and Sarah smiled at the muffled effect the water had on his laughter.

Sarah lost track of the time that they spent paddling around in the pool, touching the fish and urchins, pushing off the pool and twirling around the water, laughing, and jumping into the pool from the rocks on the side of the cave.

After what felt like hours of swimming, Aric motioned that they should resurface. At the top, he grabbed her hand and pulled her to the side of the pool. "You look like you're getting tired," he said.

Sarah nodded in acquiescence. Aric hoisted himself out of the pool, then pulled Sarah out. Sarah sat on the edge of the pool for a minute, catching her breath. Aric pulled two towels out of his backpack. He tossed one to her and began using the other to vigorously towel his head.

As Sarah caught her breath, she watched Aric. Residual water ran in rivulets off his head, down his shoulders and the brown skin of his stomach. Sarah couldn't tear her eyes away from him. There really was no other way to say it – Aric was beautiful. Muscular. And exceptionally attractive.

"Are you almost ready to start hiking back?" Aric asked.

Sarah jumped, met his eyes, and looked away, grabbing the towel and briefly wringing out her own hair. "Yeah, just a minute," she said.

Minutes later, Sarah's wet hair was tightly braided, and both were wearing their cave jackets again. Aric called out for the other members of their party, who rejoined them just as they had gotten their headlamps back on. The hike back took ages. When they finally got to the mouth of the cave, Sarah looked at the long stretch of trail down the mountain lit up by the evening sunset, remembered the hour and a half it had taken to reach Mituril, and felt her heart sink. She let out of a huff of breath. _Come on, Sarah. You can do this._

Aric walked into her visual field, breaking her stare down the mountain. "Are you alright?" he asked, concern radiating through his voice.

Sarah jerked her head up. "Yeah," she responded. Too quickly. "Yeah I'm fine."

But on "fine," her voice cracked. Aric raised an eyebrow.

Sarah closed her eyes for a second. "I'm just tired," she said.

"Oh Sarah," Aric said. She reopened her eyes and looked at him. He looked concerned. Upset. Mournful, even. "I'm so sorry."

Sarah tried to brush it off, but Aric ignored her. Turning to the others in their party, he said something in an unfamiliar language, taking off his backpack and headlamp as he did. Facing her again, he said, "The others are going to meet us at the bottom of the mountain. Take off your gear."

Sarah was too tired to argue, and did as she was told. As soon as she had let go of her gear, Aric scooped her up in his arms, bridal style. Sarah once again had no time or energy to argue. A familiar feeling of magic shimmered around her, and in a couple seconds, she was at the foot of the mountain in front of the carriages.

Though she felt uneasy about being in Aric's arms like this, Sarah could not help but feel a wave of relief that they did not have to hike down the mountain. Aric walked over to the carriages. A waiting footman opened the door and he climbed in, with her still in his arms. Once inside, a shouted order from him had the carriage moving in seconds. Aric adjusted Sarah on the seat next to him. Before she really knew what had happened, she was cuddled up next to him. His arm was around her, her feet were tucked up across his lap, and her head was resting on his shoulder. Aric reached his other hand up to brush away a strand of hair that had fallen out of her braid and into her face.

"Go to sleep, Sarah," he said softly. "Get some rest."

_I shouldn't be sitting like this_, Sarah thought. _I need to move_.

At that moment, Aric started humming. An aimless, soothing melody that coerced Sarah's traitorous eyelids to close and her mind to sink into oblivion.

That was the only night that week that Sarah dreamed, but it was a significant dream. For the first time since she had left the Labyrinth, she dreamt that Jareth spoke to her.

_Sarah was in her room in the Mountains castle, painting the pool in the cave she had swam in with Aric. The tealish, greeny-gray-tinged light was particularly difficult to capture for some reason, and Sarah was so completely engrossed in her paint mixing and layering that she didn't notice him until he spoke. _

"_Mituril," she heard him say. _

_Sarah jumped, dropping her brush on the floor and almost letting her paints go as well, her head swiveling around to look at him. _

"_Jareth!" she said desperately. She quickly set her paints down, leapt out of the chair, and threw her arms around him. His arms went around her as well, though chastely and with none of the force with which she was currently locking hers around him. _

_She inhaled deeply. Oh, he smelled so familiar. Like home. Like safety. Like love. _

_Tears pricked her eyes, and she squeezed them shut tightly. "I miss you so much, Jareth," she said, her voice cracking. "I've been enjoying my Tour, but I hate being away from you. I just hate it. I miss you so much it hurts."_

_Sarah felt his hands pat her back softly. "Come now, Sarah," she heard him say. "This is supposed to be one of the best times of your life. How do you have time to miss me?"_

_Sarah pulled her head back to look in his eyes. "I miss you every second of every day, Jareth," she said seriously. "I will never encounter anything else down here that I will want or love more than you. And you're just going to have to deal with that."_

_Jareth frowned. "You're missing the point of the Tour, Sarah," he said sternly. "Look at the beauty around you. You'll never see anything like it ever again. I want you to enjoy every minute of your time. Have the time of your life, do you understand?"_

_Sarah nodded and buried her face in his chest again. She closed her eyes for a second, then opened them again. _

_Her eyes fell on the image of the pool in Mituril that she had been painting. She felt a tug, an irresistible pull. And before she knew it, she had been pulled away from Jareth into the painting, which materialized into its representation. It was incredibly lifelike. She could feel everything – the warmth of the water, the cold, hard rock – as if she had never left. Aric was there, swimming underwater. Sarah was still holding onto the edge when he surfaced. In two powerful strokes, he swam over to where she was. _

_He smiled at her. "Jareth being difficult?" he asked._

_Sarah nodded. But it wasn't a bad thing, she realized. The pain she usually felt when thinking about Jareth wasn't there. It was buffered, somehow. Kept away. Which was, she realized, a direct result of Aric's presence. _

"_I'm sorry, Sarah," he said. "My brother doesn't realize what a treasure he has in you. Strong, spirited, loyal . . ."_

_Aric reached up his hand to run his fingers through her hair, then cup her face. "If you were mine, I would tell you every day how much you meant to me. I would never let a day go by without letting you know how much I love you."_

_A tear slipped down Sarah's face. Here were the beautiful words she had been longing to hear, that her heart _needed_ to hear. _

_Aric's eyes shifted down to her mouth, then back up again. He tilted his head, leaned forward every so slowly . . . _

_Sarah closed her eyes, and the dream faded to white._


	9. Honor, Grace, and Beauty

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Labyrinth_ or any of its characters – all are the property of Jim Henson, et. al.

**Becoming a Queen**

by Wackysocks

Chapter 9: Honor, Grace, and Beauty

Sarah woke up in her bed. At first, she had no idea how she could have gotten here. Then, realization sunk in and she buried her face in the pillows.

_I fell asleep in Aric's arms_, Sarah moaned inwardly. _Uggghhh. And then had that dream_.

The dream that was currently contributing to the churning in her mind. Only contributing, though. A much larger part of her mind's turmoil was caused by the simultaneous realization that today marked the beginning of Sarah's last week in the Mountains. Which meant that today, tonight, was the ball.

Sarah closed her eyes for a moment, trying to calm the adrenaline that raced through her system. Just because tonight was a ball held in her honor didn't mean it had to be difficult, right? _All I have to do is smile and wave. It's a piece of cake_.

Not quite.

Morning was spent in her suite, trying on dresses that multiple dressmakers had apparently made solely for the purpose of having her pick them for the ball. After the first six, Sarah began to lose track of which style dress came in what colors, and with what accessories. Some had sleeves, some didn't. Some had ruffles and some were beaded with tiny gems and some looked _far_ more elegant if she wore them with the gloves, she was told. Two hours into the bedlam that had taken her sitting room by storm, Sarah snapped.

"Out!" she yelled. The twelve dressmakers that had been clamoring to be heard and arguing with each other over which cut flattered her body best abruptly stopped talking and looked at her, aghast.

"You heard me," she said in a steely voice. "Get out."

Quickly, all the ladies filed out of the room, leaving Sarah standing on the pedestal wearing the magenta chiffon that Madame Guissava had assured her brought out the lovely complexion of her skin. Sarah looked at the dress in the trifold mirror that had been set up in front of her. No, this definitely wasn't the one.

"Linore," Sarah said tiredly.

The maid rose from her seat in the corner of the room and came to stand at Sarah's side, curtsying. "Yes, Your Highness?"

"Linore, you've been picking out my dresses for me almost the entire time I've been here," Sarah said, her voice cracking slightly in frustration. "I'm hopeless at making fashion decisions when I have too many choices. Would you please just pick one out for me to wear tonight? I don't care how I look anymore. I really just don't care and I want this to be over!"

A tear slipped from the corner of Sarah's eye, and she brushed it away impatiently, not noticing how the salty drop of water stained the magenta glove her hand was currently encased in.

Linore gave her a small smile. "I will choose for you, Your Highness," she said quietly.

Sarah's eyes widened in shock. All month long, Linore had acted aghast, shocked, and frightened every time she had been asked to select a dress for Sarah to wear. And now, when asked to select the most important dress Sarah would wear during her visit here, she wasn't complaining at all?

Linore's eyes crinkled slightly at Sarah's facial expression, but the movement was swiftly smoothed out into her characteristically calm composure. "If Your Highness would please tell me how you would like to feel tonight, I can select a dress for you."

"How I want to feel?" Sarah repeated stupidly.

"Yes, Your Highness," Linore said quietly. "How do you want this dress to make you feel tonight?"

Sarah pondered this quietly for a minute before speaking. "Confident," she said slowly, "But not flashy. I don't want to be the most beautiful girl in the whole room. I just want to be able to hold my own tonight when I face everyone."

Without a word, Linore walked over to one of the many dress racks scattered around Sarah's sitting room and began pushing dresses aside, looking. Muttering to herself, she moved to another dress rack, and then another. At the fourth rack, she paused, then pulled a dress and brought it over to Sarah. It only took a minute to help Sarah out of the magenta dress and into the new one. After it was on, Linore stepped back to allow Sarah to evaluate it.

Sarah stared at her reflection. Linore had selected a simple, one-shouldered peach silk dress. The shoulder had several ruffly flowers on it, but none of them were gemmed or sparkly, and they were the most elaborate part of the dress. The rest of the dress was cut so that it showed Sarah had curves, but did not highlight or illuminate them in any way. The silk fit like it was made for her – flowing over her bosom and down her torso to bunch on the floor only slightly.

"Your Highness will have to wear heels with this dress," Linore said quietly, "But not so high as some of the other dresses would require."

Sarah smiled at herself, feeling for the first time all morning that she would be able to handle what the night had in store for her. In short, Linore had picked out the perfect dress. This dress would in no way make her look like the belle of the ball, which would surely frustrate Aric, but would instead be rock steady. A dress she could dance and breathe in. A dress she could smile in.

"It's perfect," Sarah said, smiling as if in awe. "Oh Linore . . ."

"Your Highness," Linore said, curtsying deeply.

Linore's curtsy jolted Sarah to her senses. "Please bring the dressmakers back into the room," she said in a more formal tone.

After another minute, the dressmakers were all back in Sarah's sitting room, lined up in front of her again. A multitude of expressions crossed their faces as they took in the dress Sarah was wearing, ranging from shock to scrutiny to outright disgust.

"Your Highness, I really don't think that-" began one of the dressmakers.

"I don't believe I asked for your opinion," Sarah said sharply, cutting her off. "This is the dress I have chosen to wear tonight. The madame dressmaker that made the dress I am wearing may stay in the room with me to assist me for the rest of the day. The rest of you have no more work left here. I thank you all for your assistance with my choice this morning."

Murmurs of astonishment ran through the group of them.

"Your Highness, I believe that you-"  
>"Your Highness, this dress does not-"<br>"It is my humble opinion, Your Highness, that you would look-"

"Did none of you hear what I said?" Sarah asked in a deadly, flat tone.

Fright crossed some of the remaining faces, and not another word was said. It took a full ten minutes for them to load all of the dresses and accessories back into their bags and onto their racks, but soon the room was quiet. Only one dressmaker remained – a young woman who had remained mostly quiet throughout most of the proceedings.

"Madame . . .?" Sarah asked.

"Nivette, Your Highness," said the young woman in a trembling voice. "Irina Nivette."

"Well, Madame Nivette," Sarah said in a more cheerful tone. "I have decided to wear this dress for the ball tonight. Please show me what you have in terms of accessories and shoes, and I will send for a stylist to do my hair." Sarah nodded at Linore after saying the last sentence, upon which the maid curtsied again and left the room.

"Your Highness is most gracious to choose this dress," Madame Nivette said, curtsying deeply and holding the pose, voice still trembling. "I am most humbled to be chosen from amongst Your Highness' dressmakers to dress you for tonight's ball."

Sarah frowned. "Madame Nivette," she said slowly. "Are you frightened of me?"

Madame Nivette nodded jerkily, still deep in her protracted curtsy.

"Rise, Madame," Sarah said softly, "And look at me."

The young woman did as Sarah said, fright showing plainly in her face as she looked up.

"My maid Linore chose this dress for me," Sarah said quietly.

Madame Nivette's face could not have looked more horrified if Sarah had said she had chosen to go to the ball naked.

"She has been helping me the entire time I've been here," Sarah continued. "I wanted to feel strong tonight, to feel unafraid. The other gaudy outfits I've tried on today would not have made me confident at all. But this one . . ."

Sarah trailed off to look at herself in the mirrors again, unconsciously smiling at herself and smoothing the dress along her hips. "This dress makes me feel exactly how I want to."

An incredulous smile broke across Madame Nivette's face, and after a moment or two, she said shakily, "If Your Highness would like me to show her some accessories, I have some pieces that would go beautifully with the dress she has selected."

Sarah nodded, smiling, and Madame Nivette brought out her pieces for Sarah to try.

When Linore returned with the stylist, Sarah had made her choices. A short discussion with the stylist led to a decision about her hair, and Sarah slipped out of the dress to go to the spa.

Hours later, Sarah returned to her rooms for a quick nap after her visit to the spa. Her last thought before falling asleep was not of trepidation, but of calm resolve.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Sarah stood behind the double doors, smoothing her dress unconsciously and willing herself to breathe calmly. The only other people in the hall were the two servants who were to open the doors when the signal was given, but they stood still with their heads down in deference to her, and so Sarah ignored their presence.

"Breathe, breathe, breathe," Sarah muttered to herself. White, elbow-length gloves adorned her arms. She wore a strand of pearls around her neck and her left wrist, and pearl droplets hung from her ears. Her hair was curled and pinned back into an elaborate updo that had been the product of almost an hour's work. A pearl tiara had been placed on Sarah's head. This tiara was different from the others she had in that the center pearl hung like a droplet and moved whenever she moved her head. Sarah wasn't too fond of it, but it was the only tiara that Madame Nivette had that was made with pearls, and so it was the one that Sarah would wear.

Small, white heels graced Sarah's feet – feet that were currently taking more concentration than was proper to keep them from tapping nervously.

Sarah exhaled.

"I feel . . . pretty," she had told Linore earlier once the ministrations upon her had ceased and she had seen the finished product in the mirror.

"Your Highness is beautiful," Linore had said, accompanying her statement with another one of her never-ceasing curtsies.

And now Sarah stood here, waiting for the signal that would introduce her to the room full of people that Aric had invited to meet her. Even now, she could hear them murmuring and talking – the constant stream of noise produced by a roomful of conversations.

Suddenly, a trumpet fanfare played and the voices stopped instantly. "Announcing Her Highness, Betrothed of Jareth, the Goblin King, the Princess Sarah," intoned a solemn voice. The trumpet fanfare played again, then ceased. The two door attendants raised their heads simultaneously to look at her. Sarah nodded, doing her best to seem regal, and the two servants reached for the handles of the double doors, pushed them down, and pulled them inwards. Slowly, Sarah walked forward to the head of the staircase.

The room was enormous, and completely filled with glittering lights. Chandeliers and sconces and candle stands filled the room until it was almost like daylight. Draperies of silver, gold, and midnight blue hung on the walls, and bouquets of flowers hung from the walls and adorned the large tables of food that sat off the to the side of the enormous dance floor. But mostly, the room was packed with people.

Sarah began to move slowly down the stairs, reminding herself to be as graceful as possible. Slowly, the people in the room started clapping. Sarah smiled, nodded her head graciously. The clapping intensified. She tried to pick out a face or two, but all she seemed to see were elaborate gowns, sharply cut suits, and the glitter of gems and headpieces. She nodded again, smiling, and raised her hand to wave at them. Before she knew it, she had was on the last few steps of the staircase, looking down at a smiling Aric, who looked so stunningly handsome in the pitch-black suit he was wearing that Sarah couldn't have taken her eyes off him if she tried.

He extended his hand to her, and she took it. He bowed over her hand to kiss it, and Sarah felt herself blush. Leading her down the remaining steps, he raised her hand as he had on the day she had arrived in the Mountains. The clapping intensified even further, if that was possible. Aric led her through the throngs of people that parted in front of them until they stopped in the middle of the dance floor. He waved his hand in the air, and immediately, the clapping stopped. The throngs of guests backed off the dance floor until Sarah and Aric were its only occupants, and music started. From where, Sarah could not tell. But now was not the time to look for its source.

Sarah began to sway with Aric in the dance. Thankfully, he had chosen one of the few dances that Sarah had managed to master with much less effort during her dancing lessons in the castle back in the Goblin City.

"Please allow me to express how beautiful you look tonight," Aric said, unleashing another of his intoxicatingly powerful smiles on her.

Sarah smiled. "Thank you," she replied. "I am ever so grateful to the Madame Nivette for assisting me in wearing the dress of my dreams tonight."

This little tidbit Sarah had planned all afternoon, after she had guessed that Madame Nivette's continued nervousness during her preparations stemmed from the fact that the dress she had selected was not nearly as grand or nearly as showy as what the betrothed of a king on her Grande Tour ought to wear.

Aric's eyes registered a small amount of surprise, but it was so quickly gone in another of his smiles that if Sarah had not been looking for it, she would not have noticed. "Then I am indebted to her as well," Aric replied. "She will be rewarded most handsomely for granting you so much happiness on your special occasion."

This sentence was followed by a dip. It lasted only a second or two, but Sarah's mind still registered in minute detail the way that her body had pressed against his, how his hand had felt on the small of her back, and how his eyes bored into hers.

The dance ended, and Aric led her off the dance floor amid more clapping to the nearest table, where he gave Sarah a goblet of wine and raised one of his own into the air. "To Princess Sarah," he proclaimed regally.

"To Princess Sarah!" echoed the guests enthusiastically, lifting their own goblets in the air before taking a drink.

After this, Aric began the introductions. It wasn't long before Sarah realized that the people in attendance at the ball were all rich or influential. The Duke of Herrvonnt owned three caves from which jewels were mined, and the Count and Countess of Aester owned large expanses of land for raising mountain goats. Another duke owned a cave where pica rocks were mined, and the Earl of Brugellan smiled proudly when he stated that the pearls in Sarah's tiara were very likely taken from his own pearl fields.

Sarah quickly began losing track of who was who and who owned what, and instead began focusing her energy on smiling and greeting everyone graciously. Thankfully, the music picked up again after a couple minutes, and Aric was handing her off to a middle-aged gentleman who introduced himself as the Duke of Inglefalls, upon whose property was located the Mountain's highest natural waterfall. A great tourist attraction, the Duke assured her, and it was such a pity that she would not have time to see it during her visit.

Sarah smiled and kept up a steady stream of small talk during the dance. Other couples swirled around them, causing different colors to flash and sparkle around them as men spun ladies dressed in beautiful gowns around. Upon the end of the dance, the Duke bowed deeply and handed her off to the previously aforementioned Earl, who required much less conversation from her due to his constant chatter.

This pattern continued. Dance after dance, Sarah was handed off to earls and dukes and counts and lords of various ages, all of whom paid her compliments and told her they were beyond honored to dance with her.

Just when Sarah felt her feet start to ache, Aric appeared out of nowhere to dance with her and then lead her off the dance floor to the tables of food. Sarah immediately saw that the tables lined an entire side of the room, and at the very middle of them was a smaller table with two regal chairs that looked like thrones placed behind them.

Aric led her to the right-hand throne, pulled it out for her, and gently pushed it in as she sat down. Rounding the table, he again took his goblet and raised it. To his guests, who had become silent when he raised his goblet, he proclaimed, "Let us eat! And let the gods of all worlds grant that this food, this meal, be the best that Her Highness, the most beautiful Princess Sarah, has ever tasted."

"To Princess Sarah!" the guests intoned again. And then everyone was being seated and servants were appearing everywhere to serve the guests from the food on the tables.

Sarah was served by Aric himself, who sat at her right hand and insisted she try some of every dish that sat on their personal table. He filled her plate with food and filled her goblet with wine, never letting her lift her hands to do anything for herself.

It was all very overwhelming at first, but as Aric's attentions did not cease, Sarah began to relax and enjoy it, this utter pampering and deference. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced. Aric never let her plate or goblet become empty, and constantly plied her with compliments or told her little anecdotes about the guests at her ball that made her laugh and smile, the pearl droplet in her tiara swinging back and forth.

Just when Sarah began to feel full, Aric stood again and gave a signal to a servant nearby. The guests, upon seeing him rise, fell silent once again, and servants from everywhere walked to the tables carrying new bottles of wine.

"Beloved guests," Aric said. "The wine that is being brought to you is special – a unique wine that I have been saving in my cellars for centuries. A wine that I have been keeping _expressly_ for the day that my brother Jareth's fiancée would come to visit my Mountains."

The guests clapped as the servants began uncorking the bottles and pouring the dark wine into new goblets. A servant appeared at Sarah's side and did the same for her, handing her the new goblet with a bow. Sarah nodded to the servant, but was then distracted by Aric speaking again.

Aric took his new goblet, which Sarah saw he received from his own servant, and raised it in the air. "To Princess Sarah," he said in a sincere tone, turning to look at her. "I cannot tell you how exceedingly grateful and honored I am to be graced with your presence in my home. I can only hope that your stay here has been as delightful for you as it has been for me to have you here. I wish you all the honor, grace, and beauty of a thousand lifetimes, and may your marriage to my brother be blessed beyond compare."

Aric turned to his guests and raised his goblet higher.

"To Princess Sarah," the guests intoned, raising their own goblets. "Honor, grace, and beauty."

Then, everyone drank. Sarah was so stunned by Aric's words that she almost forgot to drink. The wine was dark and sweet and cloying, and Sarah was surprised by how much she liked it.

The music again, and Aric was bending over her hand, and kissing it, and asking her for the honor of a dance.

And Sarah danced. The music swirled around her as she danced with Aric, then a duke, then the Count of Aester, then Aric again. She drank the wine in between dances while Countesses and Duchesses talked and laughed with her and complimented her on everything from her dress to her pearls to the way her eyelashes curled against her cheeks. As the night wore on, the party only increased in intensity. It seemed as if Sarah hardly stopped moving – one moment talking with guests, the next sampling one of the delicate desserts the servants brought to the tables, the next dancing again. And all throughout it, Aric was there. Dancing with her, talking with her, laughing with her, pouring her more of the wine that had been made in her honor. And the night blurred together in a big whirl of lights and music and laughter. And Aric.

Sarah didn't remember exactly how or when she decided that she was too tired to continue, but she did remember the fanfare and applause that accompanied her exit, which she acknowledged with smiles and waves of her hand. And then she was in her bedroom, and Linore was helping her out of her dress, and her head was gratefully resting against the soft pillow, where sleep welcomed her into its embrace.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

_She was at her vanity table. Linore was brushing out her hair. Sarah held the pearl tiara in her hands, flicking the droplet with her finger and watching it bob and dance as Linore pulled the brush through the curls her stylist had so carefully sculpted before the night had begun. The brush strokes made her sleepy, and Sarah yawned._

"_Thank you, Linore, you may go," she said. Linore curtsied and left. Sarah set the tiara down, stretched, and got up to pad softly over to her large, four-poster bed, the silken skirts of the peach-colored dress swishing about her legs. _

_Just as she reached behind herself to begin undoing the tiny buttons, a small knock sounded at the door. Sarah looked at the door. She felt no curiosity, none of the bewilderment one feels when presented with a situation that is completely unexpected. Just a calm expectancy. A readiness. _

"_Come in," she said quietly. The door opened._

_Aric walked in, closing the door behind him. He was still dressed in his own formal clothes from the ball, though his black suit coat was gone. He closed the door behind him and walked over to stand in front of her. His eyes seemed to catch the luminescent glow of the moonlight and hold it, making his white eyelids stand out from his face like lightning stands out from the sky. He looked ethereal. Beautiful._

"_I came to wish you goodnight," he said softly. Sarah just looked at him. _

_He raised his hand to cup her cheek. "Goodnight, Sarah," he whispered. Bending down, he kissed her forehead. Sarah closed her eyes. _

_This was how Jareth kissed her goodnight in the Goblin City. And yet, it was different. There, it was chaste and empty. There, it left her with a feeling of sorrow. Of regret._

_Here, Aric's kiss seemed to electrify the air. Sarah tensed. In fear? Or anticipation . . . _

_Sarah felt his next kiss just touch the tip of her nose. And then she felt nothing. _

_She dared not open her eyes, but waited . . . _

_She felt the touch of his other hand on her other cheek, and then softly, softly, he kissed her lips. _

_It took a second or two, and then a huge rush of feeling overwhelmed Sarah. Every feeling of sorrow and regret Jareth had ever given her. Every time she had longed for him to touch her, to kiss her, to love her, and every time he had disappointed her. Every feeling of loss and aching and loneliness and yearning came flooding up from all their hidden places inside of her and overpowered her mind, and with a gasp, Sarah threw her arms around him and kissed him back. _

_She felt Aric's hand leave her face and grab her waist, pulling her body closer to him as he angled his head to kiss her better. _

_And she responded – oh, she responded! This was what she had been longing for. This closeness, this intimacy, this _wanting_ someone, and this mutual rejoicing at the fact that they wanted you too, just like that. _

_Just like that._

_Aric pulled away, and Sarah opened her eyes. His eyes asked the question, and hers answered. His other hand left her face to scoop up her legs, bridal style, and carry her to her bed. His deft hands undid all the tiny buttons on the back of her dress and pulled it off of her, leaving her only in her shift. Her slender hands undid the tiny buttons on the front of his shirt, leaving him bare-chested. His skin was warm against her hands. _

_They lay down. And he kissed her and kissed her until she thought her heart would stop from the sheer force of its wild beating. She wanted him to stop, to let her calm down, and at the same time she never wanted him to stop, never, never, never . . . _

_This was what she wanted. This was what she loved. And her heart heard what she longed to hear as he whispered that she was beautiful, that he loved her, and the last thing she remembered as the blackness swallowed them was that she finally, finally, felt whole._


	10. Desperation

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Labyrinth_ or any of its characters – all are the property of Jim Henson, et. al.

**Becoming a Queen**

by Wackysocks

Chapter 10: Desperation

Sarah's eyes opened slowly. The soft light of a cloudy morning streamed through her window. Memories flooded her mind.

Memories of the ball. The dancing, the food, her dress, the laughter. The guests, the toasting, the compliments, the way she had truly felt like a princess. Aric.

Memories of the night before. Sarah closed her eyes, willing them to go away, but they wouldn't. The touch of his lips against her lips, against her skin. The way he had touched her. The way he had _wanted_ her. The way Jareth hadn't. Didn't.

A knife shot through Sarah's heart as she opened her eyes. Tears leaked out of her eyes, and she did nothing to stop them. _A dream_, she thought. _It was only a dream. It didn't happen._

She rolled over, burying her face into her pillow, and wept. Her slender frame shook with silent sobs as her mind fought agony from all directions.

_It wasn't real_, she told herself over and over. _It wasn't real_.

But did she want it to be? All the feelings of loneliness and aching and _longing_ were back at the surface now, risen out of all the hiding places Sarah had forced them into back when she had first experienced them in the Goblin City. They bubbled and churned and raked at her, forcing Sarah to acknowledge them as unbidden tears continued to fall.

_Oh Jareth, Jareth, Jareth,_ Sarah thought in anguish. _Why can't you love me? Please, please, why can't you love me? Why does Aric love me and care for me so much, and treat me in such a way . . . and you can't even take me in your arms? Why, why, why . . . _

Sarah didn't know how long she lay there. She pretended to be sleeping when Linore entered with a tray of food, and continued to pretend until the maid left. And even then, she didn't move from the bed for another hour as she wrestled with the thoughts in her head. Thoughts, traitorous thoughts that insisted on inserting their poisonous selves into her head.

Did she really have to marry Jareth? What if she left him and married Aric instead? It would cause a scandal, to be sure, but fey lived long lives and things would fade over time . . . was it really worth condemning herself to a life of loneliness and misery with someone who hadn't wanted her when there was someone here in front of her who did? Everything she had experienced in the Mountains led her to believe that Aric did and could care for her for the rest of her life. And that it would be a happy life with him.

One thought saved her. One innocent, non-poisonous thought. It wasn't even a fey thought. It was a human memory.

The memory of the portrait she had painted for the contest that Elaine had insisted she enter. The portrait she had titled "I Wish" – the portrait that had captured the way Jareth had looked at her minutes before taking her back to her apartment in Minnesota. Seconds after she had tremulously said that she wanted to talk to him again.

There was just simply no way to describe the way his face had looked. His face, normally held carefully emotionless, had been fraught with a current of emotion that said nothing and everything at the same time. Surely that was a face that spoke of something there. Something like love.

But didn't actions speak louder than words?

Sarah gave up trying to sort out everything, slowly pulled herself out of bed, and walked to her vanity table, listlessly eating the food for its nutritional value rather than for the pleasure of its taste. And though her mind still raced and twisted around itself, there remained one thread of strength through it all – Jareth's face in that moment. Sarah clung to it. And though her mind was besieged with memories of last night's dream, of dream-Aric's kisses and gentle touch, Sarah's will held onto the emotion in Jareth's eyes with a strength that one does often not know one possesses until the hour of need.

It was this strength that carried her through this week, this strength that saved her from failure. When she next saw Aric, he looked at her strangely for a moment or two and asked if she was alright, but did not otherwise comment on her strange behavior or the white pallor of her face after she explained that she was tired from her Grande Tour and thought she might need a little extra rest. Every day during the fourth week, she spent in his company – touring sights, visiting nobles that had attended her ball, and walking in the streets on his arm, buying trinkets and mementos to put in her trunk as souvenirs. Throughout it all, she laughed and smiled and did her best to enjoy the rest of her time there. But it was as if the dreams had cast a shadow over what had once been the most beautiful country Sarah had ever seen. Yes, dreams – for every night that week, Sarah's slumber was filled with him.

Aric. His scent. His touch. His kisses – sweet and lingering and gentle and irresistible. And every morning, she woke feeling guilty about the way her dream self had responded to him and fighting against the feelings of loneliness and desperation that railed against her nerves.

And so Sarah did not feel too sad to bid goodbye to Aric when it was time to leave the Mountains. He kissed her hand, told her she had won the hearts of everyone in the Mountains (lingering on the word 'everyone') and reassured that she would always, always be welcome to stay. She nodded and smiled graciously, and when her carriage was rolling through the streets of Cumaeda, headed for her next destination, she slumped against the cushions with relief.

This journey between kingdoms took longer than either of the previous two had. It was a full five days before Sarah felt the caravan start to descend, and another two and a half days before they had left the Mountains behind altogether. Every single night, dreams of Aric plagued Sarah, and she was grateful upon waking that she did not have to face him and maintain her composure throughout the day as well. Desperately, she clung to the image of Jareth's face.

_I love him_, she told herself time and again. _I love him, I love him, I love him, and I cannot love anyone else. _

In the next day and a half, the landscape was flat, brown, and unoccupied. And still, slowly, they continued to descend. Finally, almost two weeks later, Sarah's caravan reached what seemed to her to be a marsh. The road got softer, but remained travelable, and her party continued on. Strange trees with large leaves began to cluster along the side of the road, and clumps of cattails and other swampy plants began to appear as well. Soon, Sarah could hardly tear her eyes from the window.

A scene that reminded her slightly of the Everglades in Florida flourished outside her carriage window, though larger and much more majestic and beautiful. At one point, Sarah thought she saw bubbles in the water.

She was right.

The bubbles turned out to be large domes, and before Sarah's eyes, she saw a city grow. The strangest city that she had ever seen, for it was completely below the surface of the water. Sarah could see people moving, and above the water, more people in long, thin boats saw her caravan, smiled, and waved before resuming their work. Some seemed to be fishing, while others were chopping water plants and reed out of the waters.

What Sarah had originally thought was a marsh turned out to be more like a river-lake combination. The water turned a crystalline clear, moving quietly along the banks of the road and curving around the domes. And suddenly, without warning, her caravan descended into it.

Her carriage dipped down, suddenly, and Sarah's eyes widened in amazement as she saw the walls of a dome curve over her carriage as she was taken underneath the water. Fish swam and played around the edges, some darting close to silver hooks that hung in the water, others staying wisely back. The road stayed firm, and Sarah saw that the domes stretched for seemed like miles underwater to accommodate homes, shops, and all the necessary buildings and roads of a small city.

Abruptly, her carriage stopped. A voice announced her, and her carriage opened. She took the proffered hand and stepped out.

Standing in front of her was a woman who was unmistakably Jareth's sister. She was shorter than Sarah, had pale skin, and was of the same slight build as Jareth was. She had the same pale blonde hair, though it was all the same length, and streaks of dark brown and deep purple ran throughout it. She had the white eyelids of royalty, but instead of the dark skin outside of her eyes curving upwards to form what Sarah tended to think of as a horn, they curved softly away to meet another darker patch of skin that extended from her eyebrows, forming a point at the edge of her hairline on her temple.

In short, Sarah thought they looked like wings. Delicate, and more graceful than the eyelids her brothers possessed.

"Princess," Jareth's sister said in a soft, musical voice. "I am Therése, Jareth's sister. This," she said, indicating the taller man standing next to her, "is my husband, Prince Runahd." The taller man, who had the male eyelids of royalty, bowed solemnly to her.

"Welcome to the Water Country," said Therése.

"Thank you," Sarah said equally softly, trying to keep her eyes focused on the queen's face.

The light was soft in the Water Country, filtered by the water. Patterns of light caused by currents of flowing water flickered everywhere – on the people, on the streets, and the buildings. Therése, like Hurren, lived in a house rather than a castle, though her house was clearly much larger and more elegant than any of the others in her realm. Sarah's servants unpacked her things from the caravan as Therése led her inside.

"I am sure you are quite fatigued from your journey," the queen said quietly. "Having also made the trip between my realm and my brother Aric's, I understand very well how exhausting it can be."

Sarah nodded gratefully.

"We will have plenty of time to talk during your time here," Therése said, leading Sarah down a hallway. She paused at a doorway to open it and lead Sarah inside. "This will be your room during your stay."

"Thank you," Sarah said, trying and failing to hide the weariness in her voice. Therése gave her a small nod and left, closing the door behind her. Sarah looked at her surroundings.

It was an elegantly furnished room. Candles lit around the room contributed to the flickering patterns of light that came in from the large window next to the bed. The four-poster bed had a soft, filmy white canopy draped over it. Other filmy cloths were hung at artistic angles on the walls, creating a soft atmosphere that hinted at fluidity. At movement.

Sarah shrugged out of her traveling clothes, dropping them on the floor where she stood. Normally, she treated Tria with more respect than that, but now, she didn't have energy for anything but sleeping. Clad in only her shift, she brushed aside the bed hangings and crawled in between the covers. They too were filmy and soft, and settled around her body as soon as she stopped moving. Sleep welcomed her instantly.


	11. The Water Country

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Labyrinth_ or any of its characters – all are the property of Jim Henson, et. al.

**Becoming a Queen**

by Wackysocks

Chapter 11: The Water Country

The same shifting patterns of light that Sarah fell asleep to were the ones that woke her. For a while after she awoke, Sarah gazed at the wall in silence. An indeterminate amount of time passed. Sarah felt a heavy despondency settle over her. Last night was the first night in over a week that the dreams of Aric had not plagued her, and Sarah could not tell what was bothering her more – that she had had the dreams at all, or that they were now gone. She hated that she had had them, of that she was certain. She loved and continued to love Jareth with every fiber of her being, perhaps even more so out of a fierce, stubborn determination to cling to what she wanted above all else. And yet, she also hated the effect that the dreams had upon her now, as their absence brought back the desperate loneliness in full force.

_How can this be?_ Sarah thought almost apathetically. _I want Jareth, but he doesn't want me. I don't want Aric, but he wants me, and I _do_ want the feeling that I get when he . . . _

Sarah shut her eyes and buried her face in her pillows, pleading with her mind to think of different things.

_I'm halfway done_, she thought wryly. _One month in the Water Country, and one month after that split between Aboveground and the Royal City. Halfway done with my Tour. And then, I'll be a married woman._

Before Sarah could even begin to lose her mind over the questions and themes presented with that thought, a soft knock came at her door. She sat up in bed.

It was Tria. "Good morning, my lady," said her maid, curtsying. "I've brought your breakfast."

Tria set the tray down on the small desk off to the left of Sarah's canopy bed, then approached her slowly. "Will my lady get up and have a bite?"

Sarah closed her eyes, steeled herself, pushed the blankets off her legs, and swung her legs off the side of the bed. She ate mechanically, hardly noticing the brush Tria pulled through her hair or even the taste of the food. After she had eaten half her breakfast and Tria was setting out a dress for her to put on, she turned to her maid.

"Tria, are we to be attended by another maid while we are here? I thought they might have sent someone to help you by now."

Tria gave her a small smile. "No, my lady. It will only be me. I'm originally from here, you see, so they thought you'd prefer to have me show you the Water Country instead of an entourage."

Sarah looked at her maid, slightly incredulous. "You're from the Water Country?"

"Yes, my lady."

"Why did you leave?"

Tria blushed slightly and looked down. "I wanted to see things, my lady. See the other lands in this realm first, 'stead of staying here my whole life."

Sarah smiled. "An adventurous spirit is nothing to be afraid of, Tria." She turned back to her food and took another bite, then looked over her shoulder at her maid again. "Oh, and they're right. I'm glad it will be you showing me everything here."

Tria smiled again. "Thank you, my lady."

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

The first day, or week, rather, Sarah hardly saw Therése at all. Tria took them outside the Water Country to the surface of the lake that housed the magnificent city underneath. They rowed themselves on long, slender boats that reminded Sarah of Aboveground canoes, learning about the various types of fish that made up a majority of the peoples' diet in the Water Country (and fishing for them), and picking various types of lettuces and water cabbages that grew in the swampier places. Later in the week, Sarah learned various types of preparing common dishes in the Water Country, and found herself smiling excitedly when she flawlessly cooked a spiny-back finfish with crested watercress for dinner.

At the beginning of the second week, Therése showed up unexpectedly as Tria was helping Sarah with her morning preparations.

"Your Majesty!" Sarah gasped, hurried getting to her feet. The chair she had been sitting on clattered to the floor behind her. "I'm sorry, I-"

"Please," Therése said, holding a hand up to stop Sarah's frantic speech. "It was I who interrupted you. There is no need for formalities. Please sit. Continue your preparations. I have only come to escort you to our destination for this week."

Therése pulled a stool from the opposite corner of the room and sat next to Sarah's little desk, somehow looking regal despite her lowly seat. Tria quietly resumed her work with Sarah's hair as the queen spoke.

"This week, I will show you one of the hallmarks of the Water Country, and one of which I am particularly fond – clothing design."

Sarah swallowed the last of her milk and turned to face the queen. "You mean, like, fashion?"

Therése smiled faintly. "Indeed. Designs from the Water Country are worn all over the realm. One could say that fashion originates here. Little originality comes from other realms, though the Royal City does have a few original designers of its own."

Sarah looked questioningly at Therése. "Do you mean to say that in the Mountains, all of the ladies wear designs that originated in the Water Country?"

Therése nodded assent.

Sarah stifled a smile.

The slight twitch around Therése's mouth betrayed Sarah's failure at fully containing her smile. "I can assure you, princess, that my dear brother Aric frequently tries to lure various designers of ours to the Mountains. However, his glamorous life up there is not very appealing to many of us Water Folk."

This time, Sarah smiled widely.

Therése smiled faintly. "Once you are ready, Princess, please come to the sitting room. I will meet you there." The queen stood up and proceeded toward the door.

"Um, your majesty," Sarah stuttered. The queen turned to look at her.

"Please call me Sarah."

The queen nodded. "Only if you will call me Therése."

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

The second week passed by in a blur for Sarah. After the first day, during which Therése patiently taught Sarah all about cloths, cuts, and designing, Sarah was given the freedom to completely design her own gown. Therése worked alongside her, but did not speak unless Sarah asked her a question first.

Therése, it turned out, had an entire clothing line of her own and frequently spent her time in the design and manufacturing of her fashions.

The first couple of days, Sarah ruined multiple pieces of cloth in various attempts to cut and pin a dress pattern together on the bust she had been given. By midweek, however, Sarah had a complete gown put together on her mannequin. The subsequent days were spent in the clothing factories, assisting the workers with sewing and manufacturing the gown.

And on the last day of the week, Sarah could not contain her smile as she wore the gown she herself had designed and made. It was a deep magenta, with shades of rosy pink and violet in the folds of the long, flowy skirt. The bodice was fitted, with fluttery, capped sleeves to continue the illusion of movement. Sarah loved it.

And from Therése, it got a genuine smile. "It is beautiful, Sarah," she said when Sarah walked out in her creation. "And there is something I neglected to mention at the beginning of this week."

Sarah stopped her admiration of her dress to look at the queen.

"Your dress will be manufactured and sold under my name."

"Oh, Therése!" Sarah exclaimed. "Really?"

"Really," the queen replied. "It will be my pleasure to produce such a beautiful gown. You will be consulted, of course, on all changes to fit, color, and size that may need to happen."

"That sounds wonderful," Sarah said happily. Looking in the mirror, Sarah swished skirts back and forth. "I wish Jareth could see me in this," she said wistfully.

The queen gave her a strange look. "Will he not?"

Sarah started, then blushed. "He probably will," she said.

Therése said nothing else on the matter, and lightly changed the subject.

Once they left the building, Therése took them to a fine dining restaurant in the heart of the city, where they feasted on rare boorfish, eel, and swamp lettuce before returning to Therése's house to retire for the night.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

The first morning of the third week, Therése once again appeared unannounced in Sarah's bedchamber during her morning routine.

"This week, I will be showing you how to make beads, and how to craft jewelry from them," Therése stated regally. "I believe Aric showed you something of the jewelry-making process in the Mountains? I will now show you what the Water Country has to offer to compete with that."

Sarah stilled her movements in an attempt to slow her racing heart.

"I will meet you in the sitting room once you are ready," the queen said before leaving her.

Sarah closed her eyes. _Breathe_, she commanded herself as images of Aric and the Mountains flashed before her eyes. _Just breathe. You're not in the Mountains. This is the Water Country. _

"My lady?"

Tria's alarmed voice interrupted Sarah's stream of thoughts. "Are you well?"

"Yes," Sarah said a little curtly. "Leave me, please. Tell Therése I will be ready momentarily."

Tria curtsied and left.

Sarah put her head in her hands. How could she have thought for a moment that all the heartbreak and despondency of the past couple weeks had really faded? It was just distraction – the fishing, the gathering, the cooking, the fashion designing. It was all still there, just beneath the surface. And it only took one name to bring it all rushing back to the surface

Memories of the dreams that had plagued her for weeks. Aric. Longing to be touched, to be cared for, to be loved. Yearning for the man she desired. Horror, guilt, and shame at the feelings her traitorous mind had showed for Aric. And most of all, heartbreak.

A tear slipped down Sarah's face. _Jareth, please!_ her heart cried. _Don't you love me? Don't you want me? Was this all only ever an illusion? I have wanted you more than I have loved myself . . . _

After another minute, Sarah forced the tightness in her chest to loosen. She sat up straight, wiped the tear from her cheek, dabbed her eyes with makeup, and stood up.

"You're Princess Sarah, betrothed to a king," she told her mirror reflection. "Pull yourself together. Crowns are never light. You knew what would happen when you wished yourself away. Now pull yourself together and act like you're worthy of becoming a queen."

Sarah let out a forceful exhale and went to join Therése in the sitting room.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Despite her initial fears, jewelry-making in the Water Country was completely different from jewelry-making in the Mountains. In the Mountains, it was all metal and gemstones. In the Water Country, jewelry design was dominated by beads. Beads of all sizes, shapes, and colors. Sarah learned how to make them from clay and other thick materials taken from the swamps above the Water Country. She spent the first day making various bead sizes and shapes with molds, dying them, and baking them in the small ovens in the bead shop.

"Beads often find their way into fashion in the Water Country," Therése explained one afternoon. "Embroidery continues to be a classic fashion for ladies, and beading with embroidery has historical significance for rank, wealth, class, and even family bloodlines."

Like in the Mountains, Sarah lost herself in the process of making jewelry. After she had made more beads than she thought she could possibly need, she agonized over various designs before choosing a tightly-beaded ankle cuff of whites and silvers. Then, she threaded it together on the final day.

"Lovely," Therése said when Sarah showed her. "You have quite a talent for this."

Sarah smiled faintly. "Aric said much the same thing."

"Did he?" Therése raised an eyebrow. "Well, he has quite an eye for talent and finery."

Sarah blushed.

"Let us go," the queen continued.

Upon leaving the building, the two women strolled along one of the main streets. Ripples of colored light played over the cobblestone streets. Flowers and vines grew from pots next to the lightposts and the houses. People passing by gave them small nods of deference when they passed.

Sarah watched the light playing on the street, working up her courage.

"Therése?"

The queen looked at her.

"Did Aric ever marry?" Sarah asked.

The queen pursed her lips. "No," she responded. "Why the question?"

"Well, he . . ." Sarah paused, wondering how to speak delicately of indelicate matters. "He just . . . he comes off rather intense at times."

For a split second, Sarah was positive that she saw a flash of anger on the queen's face. But before she could be sure, it was smoothed back into its characteristic regal smoothness.

"He does," Therése said in a tone that ended the conversation.

That night, Sarah lay awake for a while, watching the light on the walls of her bedroom through the filmy cloth of her canopy bed.

Had the queen been angry, or had it been Sarah's imagination? And if she really had been mad, who was her anger directed at? At Sarah? Sarah blushed, though no one was around.

_It's not like I asked for his attentions,_ she thought defensively. _He was the one pursuing me. Even in the dreams. _

Sarah closed her eyes. Thank goodness the dreams were gone. She still felt a slight fear whenever going to bed at night, afraid they would reappear to haunt her nighttime hours. Thankfully, so far they had not.

Sarah turned onto her side and curled around one of her pillows, giving herself over to the world of sleep.

**Author's Note:** I am so sorry that this chapter is so late - I've been working overtime for weeks now and am just now getting a moment to myself to catch up on everything. You guys are all amazing! The love and anxiety in your reviews is making me smile :)

Wackysocks


	12. Mermaid

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Labyrinth_ or any of its characters – all are the property of Jim Henson, et. al.

**Becoming a Queen**

by Wackysocks

Chapter 12: Mermaid

This time, Sarah was expecting Therése to arrive in her room during her morning routine, and thus was not surprised when the queen swept in unannounced.

"I have a surprise for you," Therése said, an uncharacteristic smile on her face. "One I think you'll enjoy."

Behind Sarah, Tria gasped. Sarah turned to look at her.

"I'm sorry!" squeaked Tria, curtsying deeply. "But oh, Your Highness!"

She clasped her hands together in joy. "I just, I'm so happy for you!"

Sarah's brow furrowed in confusion as she turned back toward the queen. "What-" she began.

Therése was still smiling. "Please join me," she said, gesturing toward the door. "There is no need to prepare."

Sarah stood up and followed her, still completely confused.

Therése led Sarah up the stairs in her house, up and up to the very top room. And then up some more, as the queen pulled out a ladder, opened up a trapdoor in the ceiling, and indicated that Sarah should follow. Once they were both in the attic, stooping slightly due to the steeply sloped ceiling, the queen closed the trapdoor and sealed it tightly. Turning to Sarah, she spoke.

"What do you know about magical legends that have to do with the sea?" she asked.

Sarah frowned. "You mean like giant whales or krakens that eat sailors?"

Therése smiled again. "Those are some examples. Tell me more."

"Well," Sarah said, racking her brain, "I guess there are the sirens, mermaids . . ."

"Oh?" interrupted the queen quickly.

"Yeah, haven't you heard of-" Sarah stopped mid-sentence. "Am I missing something here?"

Therése shook her head. "Not anything I wouldn't expect you to. You see, Sarah, we of the Water Country perpetuated the myths about mermaids."

_What?_

"Indeed," Therése said, answering her unspoken question. "Here in the Water Country, we are very attuned to the sea in all of its forms. We live in its depths. We eat its food. And, often, we . . . change, in a way, to become more one with it."

Therése paused to let this sink in. "I believe my brother is instructing you in the magical arts?"

Sarah shook her head. "No," she said. "He told me that he was going to, but I haven't begun anything yet."

Therése waved her hand. "Of course. I forget myself. I will provide for the both of us."

She took Sarah's hand, then reached her free hand for a loop of rope in the ceiling. "Brace yourself," she said.

Before Sarah could ask what was happening, Therése forcefully yanked the loop down.

Water poured the opened trapdoor, instantly flooding Sarah up to her waist. Before Sarah could do anything more than gasp in shock, Therése spoke some words in a language Sarah did not know, waved her hand, and the air _shimmered_ . . .

Sarah felt her body shift almost violently as the magic took hold. Something burst out of her skin behind her ears. Her dress ripped itself away from her body, leaving behind a fitted half-shirt that reminded Sarah of the bras that she once wore Aboveground. A thin webbing knitted itself between her fingers, and her legs forced themselves together as something tight wound itself around her from waist down.

And a split second later, Sarah was floating in the water above the dome that encased Therése's house, staring at Therése in front of her . . . a mermaid.

Therése's dress had also been torn away from her, leaving behind a violet, fitted half-shirt that matched the bluey-purple hues of her tail and fin. Her hair floated wildly in the water behind her, the purple-streaked blonde looking ethereal in the wavy light of the water. She smiled at Sarah, and gestured her hand next to her body. A watery mirror formed.

"Look at yourself," she said, her voice sounding light and sing-songy in the water.

Sarah gaped.

A dark, forest green tail and fin had replaced her legs. Or rather, taken the space of them. Sarah could still feel her legs, but they didn't quite feel like legs anymore. Silver streaks ran throughout the forest green, reminding Sarah strongly of the pica rock color she had created in the Mountains. She reached up behind her ears to feel what had burst out of her head – small gills, opening and closing as Sarah breathed.

"Oh my," Sarah said, her voice coming out as sing-song-like and airy as Therése's.

Therése laughed. It sounded like bells chiming. "Come!" she said, gesturing toward her. "See the Water Country as it truly is."

It only took Sarah a couple of seconds to master the use of her tail to swim. It felt natural, as if she had done it all her life. The domes in the water looked like large bubbles, the people inside of them like dolls. Some pointed up at Therése and Sarah and waved. Sarah waved back, delighted.

Schools of fish swim above and around them, a myriad of brights and neons interchanging with the species. Seaweed and kelp forests growing on the sandy floor drifted aimlessly with the current. An octopus stretched its lazy tentacles and slowly siphoned its way from rock to rock along a gigantic coral reef that Sarah hadn't known was there, and a pair of turtles emerged from a crevice to go up to the surface for air.

In short, it was beautiful. Sarah could hardly form a thought, due to the overwhelming beauty of the environment around her.

"It is stunning, is it not?" Therése's airy voice materialized next to her.

"I can hardly believe what I am seeing," Sarah responded, her voice coming out like bells and chimes.

"This is the Water Country," Therése responded. "On holidays and first days of the month, every adult in the Water Country is transformed and comes out to appreciate and celebrate this beauty. There is none like it in the all the land. And, I think, none that can truly equal it."

Sarah could not even think to find a response.

"Here, we believe in honoring that which we are given, and that from which we came," Therése said. "And so we honor this, our beautiful country, and take care of it carefully so that it will go on eternally as beautiful and ethereal as you see it now."

Sarah nodded, not trusting her mouth to say anything.

For hours, Therése and Sarah swam and floated in the waters around the city. They swam with the animals, floated in the watery light, and allowed the current to buffer their bodies back and forth, laughing when they were flipped around. Sarah thought she could spend days out in the waters like this, basking and luxuriating in the oneness that she felt with her environment.

Finally, Therése beckoned to her. Sarah swam over.

"We must end," Therése said. "The magic will wear off shortly, and we will drown if we do not return to air. Be warned that it will be a little rough to take at first, compared to this."

Sarah nodded and turned to go back to Therése's house.

"One moment, Sarah," Therése said. "I have neglected to inform you of something."

Sarah gave the queen a questioning look.

"You will not be returning to the city today," said Therése. "Unfortunately, the long journey between the Mountains and the Water Country is counted as part of the month that you spend with me and my people, which made today your last day with us."

Sarah's mouth dropped open.

"And, funny as it may seem," Therése continued, a small smile on her face, "The Labyrinth is not the only connection to the human world. I have here a small portal that can also take travelers to that other domain."

Before Sarah could fully understand what Therése was saying, the queen gestured upward with her hand and shouted a word.

"Ariivené!"

Something otherworldly yanked Sarah upward, and the queen's mermaid body instantaneously disappeared from sight.


	13. Alianne

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Labyrinth_ or any of its characters – all are the property of Jim Henson, et. al.

**Becoming a Queen**

by Wackysocks

Chapter 16: Alianne

The strong, upward force continued to violently yank and pull Sarah upward. It felt like her body was detaching, like she was leaving pieces behind the longer she was in the grasp of this force. She couldn't move, she couldn't breathe, her vision was starting to splinter . . .

And she burst out of the water onto the ground, heaving violently and gasping for air. As her breath came whooshing back into her grateful lungs, she looked around. She seemed to be lying half in and half out of a small koi pond, in which two very frightened koi were trying their best to keep the greatest possible distance away from her. This pond was located in a small backyard of a blue house. An old charcoal grill sat on the small patio, and a plastic swing set sat in the grass near the pond. In short, it was the backyard of someone's personal home.

But that wasn't all. Everything seemed muted, as if in a dream. The house seemed blue, to be fair, but a blue so muted and off-tone that Sarah had difficulty determining its color. The grass, too, seemed a subdued shade of green.

And strangely, the air that Sarah kept trying to fill her lungs with was not doing its job. She was still breathing heavily, and no amount of deep breaths seemed to fill her yearning lungs. Everything just seemed . . . flat, somehow.

As Sarah was processing all of this, the sliding glass door of the house opened, and an old woman stepped out.

She seemed to be in her sixties. She had short gray hair, and appeared thin and graceful for someone of her age. There was a shocked expression on her face. Before she could speak, Sarah heaved herself to her feet.

"I'm so sorry!" Sarah said, gasping somewhat as her lungs continued to strain for oxygen. "I don't know what happened; I was sent here-"

The woman waved her hand in a gesture eerily similar to the one Therése had been doing all week long, the shocked expression disappearing from her face.

"Please, do not feel the need to apologize," she said. Her voice was pleasant, and sounded younger than her body looked. "I know exactly what has happened to you."

"You do?" Sarah asked, still breathing heavily.

"Yes," said the woman. "You have been sent here from Underground."

Sarah's mouth dropped open in shock. The woman smiled.

"I would be happy to answer all of the questions I am sure you have for me. But first, why don't you step out of my koi pond and come inside?"

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Minutes later, Sarah was wrapped in a fluffy yellow towel (which felt rougher than it should have against her skin) and seated at a small kitchen table. The woman was heating water for tea. Sarah couldn't help but stare.

The closer Sarah looked, the more she began to see similarities between the woman standing before her and Therése. The royal set of the woman's brow, the thin, elegant sweep of her eyebrows (though they were human-sized and not winged like Therése's had been), and the graceful way that she moved all pointed toward an upbringing among the fey.

But this, Sarah was now certain, was not the Underground.

After another moment or two, the woman brought two steaming mugs of tea to the table, along with a spoon and a small pot of honey.

"Now that we have something to talk over, we can begin," she said with a soft smile. "Ask away."

Sarah added honey to her tea as her mind fought over what question to ask first.

"Where am I?"

"Hillsboro, Oregon," the woman replied. "Aboveground, of course. I'm sure you've noticed that by now."

Sarah nodded. The woman smiled ruefully at her.

"I'm afraid that the sensation of loss is not going to go away while you are up here, and I'm sorry I can't do anything about it. I've gotten used to it over time."

_What?_

"You mean you feel it, too?" Sarah asked, astonished. "Who- who exactly are you?"

The woman set her mug down on the table, cradling it in her fingers.

"I am Alianne, second-born child of Their Majesties the King and Queen of the Royal City."

Sarah took a second to process this. "You mean . . . you're a fey?"

"Was," replied Alianne. "As you can see, I am now just a human."

Sarah couldn't form the words to the next question. Alianne smiled grimly.

"I already know what your next question is. And the answer is yes, I was banished. But not for some heinous crime, at least not in my eyes. Simply put, I fell in love.

"Years and years ago, I was visiting my brother Aric, the Goblin King. I was being primed to take over the Water Country from my mother, and though I was not terribly excited about the idea, I had some plans and ideas for my rule. All of the planning, though, had worn me out quite a bit, and so I was on an extended visit to the Labyrinth to rest and give my mind some creative space to think."

Immediately, Sarah's mind called to the forefront the memory of the moonlight on the trees from the tower where she had her dancing lessons. The way the cracks in the cobblestones of the Goblin City formed shapes and pictures, as if one were looking at clouds, and _Jareth_ . . ."

"Aric, being a generous host, invited me to visit the Aboveground with him," Alianne continued, her voice breaking through the stream of memories in Sarah's head. "And so, up we went. Once I got past the dull coloring and air up here, I found it fascinating to watch the humans go about their days. After our first visit, I begged Aric to go again. And again, and again. I spent every day of my visit up here, watching humans and imitating their actions.

"On the last day, as I was strolling through Central Park in New York City, I saw him. The most beautiful boy I had ever laid eyes on. He had the yellowest hair I had ever seen, and eyes that looked gray in the winter sun."

Alianne's eyes were far away in memory. "He caught me staring at him, smiled, and told me that in order to pay for all of my staring, I had to have lunch with him at once."

Her eyes came back to rest on Sarah. "I spent every last minute of that day with him, and by the end of it, I was so in love that I just knew I could not spend my life in a land where he did not live. And so, upon my return to the Royal City, I told my parents about him and asked that he be made a fey."

Alianne stood up to refill her mug.

"What happened?" Sarah blurted out after several seconds, unable to wait any longer.

"My parents were furious," Alianne said, adding honey to her tea. "They immediately wrote a scathing letter to Aric about what had happened, forbidding him to allow me back Aboveground and forbidding him to allow the human boy to join us Underground. Of course, that part was hardly necessary," Alianne said, scoffing as she returned to the table. "Aric immediately hated the idea as much as they had. He wouldn't have helped me if I had begged him on my knees.

"My parents locked me in my room for weeks, demanding that I banish the human boy from my thoughts and return to my duties as queen-to-be of the Water Country. But try as I might, I just couldn't. Every day, I wanted to be with my love, and every day, I spent most of my waking hours thinking of him."

Alianne raised her eyebrows at Sarah over her mug. "As you can imagine, this was a great source of frustration to my parents."

Sarah nodded.

"In the end, it was Jareth who found the solution," Alianne continued.

At the unexpected mention of Jareth's name, a sharp pain shot through Sarah's chest. For a second, her lungs ceased to work and burned for air, her sides throbbing as her heart cried out in pain. Alianne, staring off into space again, did not notice Sarah's moment of agony.

"He suggested to my parents that instead of bringing the human boy Underground, that they allow me to join him Aboveground," she said softly. "I, at first, was horrified that he would suggest such a thing, but he only said to me, 'It's quite obvious that you aren't going to change your mind about this, so you'd best get on with it.' He was quite right, of course. I was just too initially selfish to admit it to myself.

"After months of arguments and standoffs, my father gave in. But not in the way you'd think. He made me human, but also banished me from ever returning to the Underground or seeing my family again. And also, since I was born a fey, I experience the human world as you do – through a dull, muted lens."

Sarah raised her eyebrows, aghast. Alianne just smiled again.

"It's all worth it, though. It took me two months of searching, but I found that yellow-haired boy and never let him go. I married him four months later and never looked back."

Alianne let the silence sit in the air for a couple moments.

"As I aged, there were times when I wondered if I had made the wrong choice. If I had given up too much and gotten too little. But what I realized every time I thought that way was that I, once again, was being too selfish about it. He is far more to me than anything I could have had Underground. I would do it all over again in a heartbeat."

Sarah smiled.

Alianne smiled back at her. "And now, we've been married thirty-five years! And what a glorious life it's been."

"Will I meet him?" Sarah asked.

"Tonight," Alianne responded. "He is out fishing with some friends all day today. I will never understand the human male's propensity for standing out in the water for hours with a stick, waiting for a fish to bite it, but I suppose that I was not meant to."

Sarah laughed.

"I would like to know about you, now," Alianne said. "The only reason I can think of for a fey to be sent to me is that perhaps you have a request of me? No, wait . . ."

Alianne's eyes glanced down to Sarah's hand and rested on the ring that Jareth had given her. Her slender eyebrows lifted. "You are on your Grande Tour," she stated.

"Yes," Sarah responded.

"And to which brother are you betrothed? No, don't tell me," Alianne said. "Hmmmm. I very much doubt it's Hurren, and as you are wearing a ring on your left hand like a human female would . . . could you possibly be betrothed to Jareth?"

Sarah nodded.

"Oh, how lovely!" Alianne exclaimed. "Jareth has always been my favorite of all my brothers. I am so happy he has finally found the love that I have. How has your Tour been so far?"

In an instant, Sarah's emotions changed, and played out on her face the torment she had been through for the last several months.

"Oh, dear," Alianne said. "Well, before we address that, why don't you take a hot bath?"


	14. Answers

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Labyrinth_ or any of its characters – all are the property of Jim Henson, et. al.

**Becoming a Queen**

by Wackysocks

Chapter 17: Answers

The hot water felt luxurious on Sarah's skin. Thankfully, water felt no different Aboveground than it did Underground, which Sarah surmised was because nobody could really change water all that much.

After soaking for a while, Sarah got out of the bath, twisted her damp hair up onto her head into a messy bun not unlike the ones she used to wear when she lived with Elaine in Minnesota, shrugged into the clothes that Alianne had provided her, and went to find her hostess.

Alianne was sitting in her living room, curled up on the couch with a book. She looked so comfortable, so decidedly human, that if Sarah had not just heard her story, she might not have believed that Alianne had once been royalty.

Alianne looked up, smiled, and patted the couch beside her. Once Sarah joined her, she smiled encouragingly.

"Start from the beginning, Sarah. How was your time in the Plains?"

This question was easy enough, and Sarah found herself smiling as she described what it had been like to cut pipeweed, make gloves, and walk the streets of Pylon on Bargaining Day. Alianne's face took on a tinge of yearning as Sarah talked.

"And how is Hurren?"

"He seems well," Sarah said. "He's so withdrawn and quiet that I don't feel as if I know much about him, but I can see that he is a good man, and his people love him."

Alianne nodded. "That is like the Hurren I remember." Then she gave Sarah a calculating look.

"I have a niggling feeling that the reason for your tortured look earlier was because of your time in the Mountains. Am I correct?"

Sarah clenched her jaw and nodded, looking down at her hands.

Alianne swore softly under her breath, the curse sounding coarse against her typical grace.

"What did he do, Sarah?"

Sarah did not have to ask Alianne to explain further. "Well, he didn't really _do_ anything," Sarah began. "He was incredibly gracious and polite. I made jewelry and pica sticks, and we explored the caves." Here, Sarah paused to look at Alianne and grin. "The cave lemmings in Akrilon were my favorite."

Alianne laughed. "I had forgotten about those! Yes, they're quite fun, aren't they?"

Sarah nodded in acquiescence before continuing. "After a week spent in the caves, he threw me a ball. I was the star of the evening. Everything was beautiful and lovely – I have nothing to complain about."

After a long pause, Alianne said, "But?"

"But," Sarah continued, "Every night after, starting with that one, I had the most vivid dreams of him. We-" Sarah blushed.

Alianne's face looked thunderous, which deepened Sarah's blush.

"I swear, I didn't want to have those dreams, Alianne," she pleaded with her hostess. "I never would have-"

"Good gracious, Sarah, do you think I'm blaming you?" Alianne asked her, aghast. "Not at all! I am not angry at you at all. I am _furious_ with Aric."

Sarah stared at her. "With Aric? But he didn't-"

"He did, Sarah," Alianne interrupted. "I'm going to hazard a guess that he didn't tell you everything about the caves."

At Sarah's puzzled look, Alianne continued, "Did you know that the largest variety of herbs found in the Underground grow in the Mountain caves?"

Sarah shook her head. Alianne snorted.

"I knew it. Sarah, when I say that the largest variety grows in the caves, I mean more than 90% of every herb and magical plant found in the entire realm can only be found there. That's part of the reason that Aric remains so wealthy. And because of the easy access to all of these plants, Aric has developed a master skill at creating and making magical potions."

Sarah was transfixed by Alianne's words, her chest feeling tight.

"Potion-making is not a widely studied magical art in the Underground," Alianne continued, "largely because it is highly finicky, quite dangerous, and very exasperating for amateurs. There are only a few potioneers in the Underground who are any good. You, actually, have had a potion from one of them."

Sarah thought for a moment before the memory hit her.

"Jareth's peach," she said slowly, "that caused me to dream of the ballroom, back when I had wished my baby brother away."

"Yes," said Alianne. "But you could tell it was a dream, couldn't you? There was that sheen over it that alerted you to the fact that it wasn't real."

Sarah nodded in acquiescence, remembering the strange taste of the peach and the way everything around her had danced and shimmered before the ballroom had appeared.

"Well, although Jareth is quite good, Aric is _much_ better. He is the undisputed master potioneer of the Underground. And as such, the potions of his that you take will not alert you to the fact that you have taken them."

Sarah's face paled as Alianne's words sank in. "You mean . . ."

"Yes, Sarah," Alianne said. "He drugged you."

Sarah couldn't speak.

"When did you have your first dream?"

"The night of the ball," Sarah said immediately. "And every night after until I arrived in the Water Country."

"Did you have anything out of the ordinary to eat or drink that night?"

"N-, oh my gosh," Sarah gasped. "The wine."

"What wine?"

"He had a special wine for my engagement to Jareth," Sarah responded. "A wine he had been saving for centuries for Jareth's betrothed."

"That was it," Alianne said immediately. "And if you continued to have those dreams until you reached the Water Country, he likely drugged your water as well."

Sarah sat in shocked silence for a moment, then shook her head.

"It had to be partially my fault, though," she said despondently.

Alianne's eyebrows flew upward. "My goodness, why on earth would you say that?"

"Because," Sarah blushed, "I had been feeling so neglected and lonely that I wanted every single thing that Aric did in those dreams. It's not like I was forced against my will in any of them."

"Well, part of that was just the potion, Sarah. You were supposed to want it all. But what do you mean by feeling neglected? Jareth couldn't possibly have mistreated you . . ." Alianne trailed off.

"No, no!" Sarah said immediately. "He has never mistreated me. He's just . . . never wanted me, either."

Alianne looked so confused that Sarah felt forced to elaborate further.

"I was the one who wished myself away to the Underground for the third time. Essentially, my own selfishness forced Jareth to keep me. And I can tell that he hasn't wanted me because . . . because he's never touched me. Just, well, not really anything."

A small hint of a smile touched Alianne's lips. "Go on."

Sarah felt so exposed, telling Alianne everything she had kept secret for months. "He's never kissed me," she said softly. "The only time he has ever embraced me was when I told him I wanted to spend my life with him Underground. Every touch since then has been chaste and brotherly and just . . . formal."

The tight, aching feeling was back in her chest in full force, pinching her side. Sarah squeezed her eyes shut. "He has never told me he loves me."

Alianne snorted, surprising Sarah out of the pain her mind was pulling her into.

"My brother is a fool for not saying that, Sarah, since I know it is not the case. That is just plain Jareth being his overly-reserved self. However, I can speak to the other part of it."

Alianne took Sarah's hand. "As a human, you are used to the idea and practice of physical contact between significant others before marriage. It's easy, up here. But fey are magical creatures."

She smiled. "Jareth was respecting you, Sarah. You see, when fey kiss . . . something ignites between them. An inferno of sorts. If Jareth had kissed you, you quite simply would have been unable to stop physical contact without a long, intense consummation."

Sarah's jaw dropped open. Alianne nodded.

"It's not that he didn't want you, Sarah. He was just waiting. I can assure you that he wants you just as much as you want him. He just didn't want to put you in the position of feeling like a mistress in an unfamiliar land." Alianne's brow furrowed. "He could have told you, though, instead of letting you sit for months in what I am sure has been a long period of self-loathing."

Relief poured through Sarah's body, relaxing tight muscles. Anguish flooded out of her as the realization washed through her mind.

_He does want me._

Alianne smiled as she saw Sarah's relief. "That is why fey are not given to public displays of affection," she said. "It would be rather, ah, inconvenient to have such a reaction in front of a crowd."

Sarah laughed weakly. "I can imagine so." Then abruptly, she frowned.

"But if that is the way that fey react, then Aric knew all along . . ." she trailed off at the disgusted expression on Alianne's face.

"Yes," said the former fey. "He knew. I'm sure he was betting on Jareth's reserved nature and hoping you would be so starved for physical affection that you would give in to him. And by giving in, you would leave Jareth completely."

Sarah was revolted. "That's sickening," she said in disgust. Alianne nodded in agreement.

"But why me?" Sarah continued. "I'm sure he could have any number of the women in the Mountains. Why his brother's betrothed?"

"The fact that he could have any woman is exactly the reason that he wanted you," said Alianne. "You're off limits. In essence, a challenge. And," she added distastefully, "He's done it before."

"What?" Sarah gasped. "No! But . . . who?"

Alianne's eyes became sad.

"Her name was Nicolette," Alianne said softly. "Betrothed of my older brother Hurren."

"No," Sarah gasped.

"Yes," Alianne replied sadly.

"But," Sarah stuttered, searching for words. "How . . .?"

"The same way that he attempted with you," Alianne said. "The Mountains, for her, were the first stop on her Tour. You can imagine the scandal that swept the realm when Nicolette announced that she was breaking her engagement to Hurren to be with Aric."

Sarah shook her head in disbelief.

Alianne pursed her lips. "Aric feigned astonishment and protest at her declaration, but did not send her away. Instead, he allowed her to stay in the Mountains with him. My poor brother Hurren's heart was shattered, and if he was reserved then, after Nicolette left him he became even more so."

"What happened to Nicolette?" Sarah asked. "I never even heard her name when I was in the Mountains."

Alianne scoffed. "That is because she is a nobody, now. Aric courted her for maybe two months before dropping her by the wayside, and now she is just one of the many ladies on the lower circle of his court. She could have been Queen of the Plains, and the wife of one of the most steadfast men I have ever known, but gave it up for the dream of passion that Aric presented her with."

Sarah stared off into space, lost in thought for several moments.

"But not you," Alianne said slowly, breaking Sarah's reverie. "You're made of stronger stuff, I think. And though he tried, he could not break you."

Sarah shook her head slowly.

"I love Jareth," she said, "With every piece of my soul."

Alianne smiled a broad smile.

"Then I am glad to call you sister."

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Sarah's two weeks Aboveground passed quickly. Alianne took her to a play and to the theater, like Sarah had done before her change. George, Alianne's husband, had a warm laugh and a quick wit that kept Sarah laughing and made her feel at home in their house. Though his yellow hair had turned salt-and-pepper gray, the way Alianne looked at him, and he at her, made Sarah long for Jareth even more than she had been.

But this time, it was not with the agony of something that is lost. Rather, it was with the anticipation and nervous excitement of something that is sure, and Sarah found herself counting down the days until the wedding, when she would finally see his face again.

On the last evening Aboveground, after George had cooked Alaskan salmon he had caught himself the weekend before, Alianne led her back outside to the koi pond and directed Sarah to stand in it.

Once Sarah was standing in the water, Alianne embraced her.

"I have loved knowing you, Sarah," she said. "I wish you every bliss. Please give Jareth my love for me."

Sarah nodded yes, her eyes welling up with tears as a telltale shimmer of magic travelled up her spine.

"Goodbye, Alianne," she said.

"Goodbye, sister," Alianne responded.

And Sarah disappeared.


	15. The Royal City

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Labyrinth_ or any of its characters – all are the property of Jim Henson, et. al.

**Becoming a Queen**

by Wackysocks

**Author's Note: Dearest, dearest readers. I am **_**so**_** sorry for leaving this for so long. I could give you all the excuses about working overtime and being exhausted, but you don't need to hear all of that. Instead, please just accept my sincerest congratulations and read on. We're almost at the end! This one is short, but that's only because I didn't want to split up the wedding chapter. Hence, this one is super short and the next is super long. But as penance and further apology for my tardiness in posting, you all get the both of them at once! Yay!**

Chapter 15: The Royal City

The world slowly took shape around her again. Sarah blinked her eyes to focus on the man and woman standing before her. The minute she registered the delicately ornate crowns on their heads, she dropped into a deep, formal curtsy (as Cane had instructed her months ago).

"Your Majesties," she said, a small quaver in her voice. "I am honored to be in your presence."

"Rise, Princess," said the Queen.

Sarah rose slowly, folding her hands in front of her in deference.

It was instantly obvious from whom Jareth got his looks. The Queen was thin, with light blonde hair that she had streaked with gold. The winged female eyelids of royalty only made her look more regal, if that were possible.

The King, on the other hand, was tall and broad-shouldered, reminding Sarah strongly of Hurren. After a moment, the Queen spoke.

"We have much to do."

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

The next two weeks were spent in a whirlwind of wedding details. Mornings were spent in wedding dress fittings that sometimes took hours to complete, only to repeat again the next day with more minute details to add or correct. Early hours of every afternoon were spent answering the overwhelming bombardment of questions about this flower, that fabric, and these tapestries. And though Sarah saw millions of small pieces that she had to give her opinion on, she was not allowed to see the room where her wedding would take place. Nor was she allowed to see her wedding gown.

"You're kidding!" she blurted out when the Queen blindfolded her the first morning.

Though Sarah could not see the Queen's face, she sensed a benevolent tone in her voice.

"It is custom for a bride in the Underground to not witness herself in her wedding gown until she is ready to be wed."

Because of these restrictions, Sarah felt largely out of control and in the dark about her own wedding, and often caught herself wondering if she would even like it at all.

After all the questions had been answered, she was instructed in the vows and pledges she would take as a bride and a queen. And it just so happened that the royal tutor assigned to teach her these things was none other than Cane, her instructor from months ago. Though Sarah would not have called him a friend, it still felt comforting to have someone around who was familiar, especially when everyone she interacted with each day was a stranger.

And so the days passed in questions and tutelage, until the last question had been answered and her dress had been completed, and it was the night before her wedding day.

Sarah sat on her window seat, gazing out over the Royal City as the sun slowly set. The tops of the buildings were lit up in silvers, golds, and pinkish hues as the sun dipped lower in the sky. Sarah was lost in thoughts of painting them when she heard a loud fanfare, and looked down from her window at the palace courtyard to see several carriages arrive. Servants walked forward to unload trunks and bags, and as Sarah looked on with curiosity, the King and Queen walked out to greet the arrival of . . .

Jareth.

Sarah's heart leapt in her chest, beating wildly and erratically as her love emerged from the first carriage.

He was more beautiful than Sarah's memory could do him justice. He was dressed simply, in black, fitted traveling clothes and black gloves, always gloves. There were no colored streaks present in his blonde hair, though it was still uneven and wisped out from his head. He stepped forward from the carriage, stopped, and bowed to his parents, saying something that Sarah could not make out from reading his lips.

The Queen must have said something in return, for Jareth straightened to take her hand and kiss it, then followed his parents up the walk into the castle, disappearing from Sarah's sight.

Sarah leaned against the seat back and closer her eyes, her heart still thumping.

_Jareth,_ she thought, _Jareth, you're here. _

"I love you," she whispered to herself. "I love you so much."

She sat there for however long it was, repeating that small moment in head. He, gracefully emerging from the carriage. Greeting the King and Queen with his steady gaze. His mouth moving as he spoke to his mother, lips forming words and releasing them into the air.

"Your Highness."

Sarah opened her eyes to see Tria standing there.

"Yes?" she replied.

"Your Highness should retire for the night," Tria said, curtsying as she spoke. "Tomorrow is a day for the ages."

Sarah smiled. "Yes, it is," she agreed.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

As Sarah prepared for bed that night, something about her reflection in the mirror stopped her. She paused for a minute, frowning. What was different?

Was it wedding jitters? Stress? Had she gained weight?

Then Sarah saw it. Gasping, she pulled the hair back away from her face and stared at them.

Her eyebrows.

Sarah touched them gently. They had thinned slightly, it was true, but more importantly, they were _longer_.

Sarah just stared. They weren't quite the length of Therése's, not yet, but they were getting there.

_This is it_, Sarah thought. _This is really it._


	16. The Wedding

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Labyrinth_ or any of its characters – all are the property of Jim Henson, et. al.

**Becoming a Queen**

by Wackysocks

Chapter 16: The Wedding

"Your Highness!"

Sarah cracked open an eye.

Tria was crouched by her bedside, a huge grin on her bed.

"Your Highness!" she whispered again. "Wake up! Today is the day!"

Sarah could not help but smile.

Tria maintained her excited persona throughout Sarah's morning routine, smiling through Sarah's breakfast and morning wash.

"What is my schedule for the day, Tria?" Sarah asked.

"Oh Highness, I am not even allowed to know, but I just _know_ it's going to be wonderful!" Tria exclaimed, simultaneously contrite and unable to control her delight.

Sarah could not help but smile again. Tria's joy was infectious.

Just as Sarah was taking the last bite of her breakfast, a firm knock was heard at the door. Tria squeaked and darted over to open it, revealing a pair of palace servants, both dressed in white with silver embroidery.

"Princess Sarah," they intoned, bowing deeply. "Please follow us to begin your preparations."

Sarah drew a robe around herself and followed them.

They took her to a large spa room, larger even than the spa Sarah had visited in the Mountains. A woman dressed similarly to the servants who had escorted Sarah from her rooms approached and bowed deeply.

"Your Highness, my name is Mistress Anneira. I have been tasked with your personal preparations for your wedding today, and it is my deepest honor to accept and attend to you."

"Thank you," said Sarah, wondering if there was a more proper response to such a statement.

If there was, the woman said nothing. Instead she straightened and turned to her many attendants in the room.

"Let us begin."

It did not take Sarah long to realize that there was far more weight behind that statement than there initially seemed to be.

First, every inch of her body was buffed and scrubbed and soaked in the hot water pool until she felt that there was not an unclean particle left on her. Then, she was rubbed and massaged with oils of tantalizing scents until every muscle was relaxed and every inch of skin was smooth. Finally, the attendants began to work on her hair.

Sarah felt blissfully relaxed as the attendants rubbed her head with fluffy towels and wafted her hair with fans. When it was only partially damp, two girls dressed in the same white and silver linens stepped forward to begin their handiwork.

Sarah's hair took two hours to complete. Tiny braids woven between large and small curls held her hair back from her face while simultaneously allowing it to cascade over her shoulders and down her back. Tiny threads of silver were woven into it, creating a shimmery look when Sarah turned her head. And finally, at the end, two glittering hair combs placed just so, reminding Sarah of her reflection from Jareth's ballroom dream.

Mistress Anneira held up a mirror for Sarah to see.

Sarah inhaled slowly. "Oh my," she whispered.

She turned to the attendants. "It's beautiful," she said. "I couldn't have imagined anything nearly this perfect."

One of the attendants blushed and looked down, while the other teared up. "Thank you, Your Highness," they said together.

Right on cue, the Queen swept into the room. She must have been ahead of Sarah's schedule, for her hair was already done up almost as intricately as Sarah's was, thought without the shimmering threads of silver or the hairpieces. Instead, tiny pearls were threaded into her hair. She also already wore her dress – a deep navy hue that set off her pale skin and made her winged eyebrows stand out against her face.

Sarah began to rise, but the Queen motioned for her to stay seated.

"Sarah," she began formally, "It is time for your dress."

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Sarah stood before the closed doors, focusing on breathing.

_Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale._

Every piece was in place. Everything was set. In moments, the music would start, the doors would open, and Sarah would walk down the aisle toward the fey she had left humankind for.

Her heart pounded in her chest.

_Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale._

Unconsciously, Sarah's hands smoothed her dress as she looked down at it again. She still could hardly believe what she was wearing. It had taken ages to lace her into the various layers of this dress, but _oh_.

_This dress._

A gown of soft, shimmery silver so light it could almost be called a dove gray flowed down her body, from its boatneck-style cut (Sarah hadn't dared to use those words in front of the Queen) that rested on the very edges of her shoulders, to the fitted bodice, to the long skirt that flowed behind her in a shimmering train. Tiny white irillias (flowers, Sarah learned, that grew in a section of the Labyrinth she had not yet been to) were embroidered along the bodice, all along the neckline, and down the outside of her sleeves, delicately detaching from sleeves at her wrists to turn into an intricate web of flowery lace that hung to her fingertips.

A filmy veil delicately attached to her hair by several pearl pins trailed behind her for yards. _Humans would call this cathedral-style_, Sarah had thought in that moment of awe she'd had when she had first seen her reflection.

Funny, that she should be referring to humans as _them_, seeing as she had only just recently left her humanity behind her.

A small choir of strings began to play from the other side of the door. Violins, it sounded like. More joined in, creating the effect of a quiet gathering that hushed the hum of voices and signaled the beginning of her wedding ceremony. Slowly, the volume increased, playing a melody that Sarah had heard playing in the castle for two weeks as the orchestra practiced.

The door handle twitched, and moved, and then both doors opened inwards, revealing a soft carpet of white petals that led directly to the heart of the circular room to a white gazebo, where Jareth stood in front of another fey.

_Jareth_.

Sarah began to walk toward him, forcing herself to walk slowly with the cadences of the violins. She kept her eyes on him. And _oh_, he was _breathtaking_!

He was wearing a fitted coat and leggings in his usual style, though this time they were not of dark colors, but rather of the palest ice blue. Icy blue and white streaks shot through his blond hair, providing a contrast to his piercing eyes, which were fixed steadily on her. Tiny diamonds were sprinkled across the shoulders and collar of his coat, and, Sarah suspected, down the back as well. His gloves and boots were dove gray.

As she neared the gazebo where Jareth waited for her, she could see the softness around his eyes betraying the impassive expression on his face. Sarah fought to keep her face serene. It would not do to smile during a fey wedding, Tria had told her earlier this week. Especially the wedding of a king and queen.

The violins ended their melody at the exact second that Sarah drew equal with Jareth in the center of the gazebo. He looked into her eyes for a long second, a current of emotions running through his own eyes that Sarah couldn't interpret, and finally looked at the fey on golden robes standing next to him. Sarah did the same.

The fey spoke.

"Glorious Ones gathered in this circle, we have come together in unison today to witness this union commence, and bless These Two as they join themselves for eternity. Sing."

The congregated fey began to sing – a wordless, ethereal melody that simultaneously set Sarah's hair on end and sent a thrill down her spine. She looked away from the fey conducting their ceremony and out at the congregation for a few seconds.

She had hardly noticed them when she walked in. Now, she saw that all the women were dressed in shades of white and all the men in shades of sky blue. The room itself was circular, with the gazebo she was under in the exact middle. Everyone was seated in circular rows around them. Except that at the moment, they were all swaying and singing this haunting, wordless melody.

Sarah looked back at Jareth. He was looking at her, the barest hint of a knowing smile at the corners of his mouth.

After a few seconds, the melody stopped. The fey in golden robes spoke again, addressing Jareth.

"Jareth, King of the Labyrinth, do you hereby honor your betrothal to Her Highness Princess Sarah by giving her your life and accepting hers in return? If so, take her hand and give your assent."

Jareth looked at her, reached down, and took her left hand in his right.

"Sarah, I give you my life," Jareth said steadily, looking into her eyes. His voice was deep and rich and wonderful, and sent a lovely thrill down Sarah's spine.

"Everything I am is now yours. I vow to honor you and live by your side as long as I breathe. Should I forsake you, may the Powers That Be strike me down for my defiance, and let me live no more."

Sarah blinked furiously, trying to keep her tears at bay. _He would not say this if he did not love me_, Sarah thought fiercely. _He would not say this._

The fey in gold spoke again, this time to her.

"Sarah, Princess of the Underground, do you hereby honor your betrothal to His Highness King Jareth by giving him your life and accepting his in return? If so, take his hand and give your assent."

Sarah took Jareth's hand in hers, looked him in the eyes, and spoke the same words. Surprisingly to her, her voice was calm.

"Jareth, I give you my life. Everything I am is now yours. I vow to honor you and live by your side as long as I breathe. Should I forsake you, may the Powers That Be strike me down for my defiance, and let me live no more."

The congregated fey began to hum.

At the fey's nod, Jareth spoke again.

"As King of the Labyrinth, I take you, Princess Sarah of the Underground, as my queen. I and my subjects shall give to you all the honor, respect, and loyalty that you are owed, and shall remain faithful to you for as long as our bodies are graced with life."

The humming intensified as Sarah spoke.

"As Princess of the Underground, I take you, King Jareth of the Labyrinth, as my king. I shall give you and your subjects all the honor, respect, and loyalty that you and they are owed, and shall remain faithful to you and to them for as long as my body is graced with life."

The humming stopped. The fey in golden robes lifted his hands in a gesture to the congregated fey.

"Glorious Ones, let us bind them together with blessing, that they may be joined for eternity."

With those words, he walked around Jareth and Sarah to leave the gazebo and join the congregation in the first row. Jareth and Sarah were left standing under the gazebo, still holding hands.

The fey in the room raised their hands and began to sing. Though there were words to their song, Sarah wasn't listening. From each of their hands streamed small threads of magic in all colors. The threads floated forward in the air toward Jareth and Sarah, stopping at the edges of the gazebo to form a web around it.

Sarah watched as the colors twisted and wove together to create a boundary of shining colors between the fey in the room and the occupants of the gazebo. The colors thickened as they continued to stream from the congregated fey until Sarah could no longer see them. She turned to face Jareth, who still held her hands in his.

He was looking steadily at her, with something reminiscent of triumph in his eyes. Sarah didn't dare to speak for fear that she break some arcane fey wedding rule that Tria had forgotten to tell her.

After a couple more seconds, the fey finished their song. The colors shimmered, then slowly flowed inward toward Sarah and Jareth, turning into two thick strands that wove around their clasped hands.

The colors were like a vise. They whirled around Jareth's and Sarah's hands until they turned white, and sank into their skin.

Sarah felt a slight tightening of her chest, followed by an _awareness_ in her mind. She looked at Jareth, startled. His eyebrow twitched, but other than that, he did not move.

Sarah focused on the awareness. It was Jareth. She couldn't tell what he was thinking or feeling, but she knew that he was there. That he was alive.

That he was _hers_.

As her mind registered this thought, the fey spoke.

"Let us bless them," he said. The congregated fey stood and began slowly filing out of the room into a long hallway outside. Sarah watched them for a second, then looked back at Jareth.

He was watching the fey leave the room. As the last one left, the fey in the golden robes spoke.

"Announcing His Highness, King Jareth of the Labyrinth, and His Queen!"

Jareth let go of Sarah's right hand and began walking her forward, toward the hallway where the congregated fey had lined up. He looked down at her as they passed underneath the edge of the gazebo, and for the first time in months, spoke directly to her alone.

"You look beautiful, my wife."

Sarah's face broke into a smile, and somewhat surprisingly, so did Jareth's. He looked forward toward their congregation as they exited the room, still smiling.

The fey lifted their hands as Jareth and Sarah passed between them, each speaking words of well wishes.

"Grace, beauty, long life," Sarah heard. "Peace, happiness, love, many children, glory, health."

As Jareth and Sarah continued to walk down the hallway, Sarah heard these words repeated, along with many other beautiful words that the fey wished for them. She smiled as she looked at the guests.

_Every one of them wishes us these things_, Sarah thought to herself. She couldn't stop smiling.

Jareth and Sarah walked into the room at the end of the hallway, which turned out to be an enormous ballroom, larger even than the one Sarah had last danced in during her time in the Mountains. Draperies of silver and ice blue adorned the walls, along with white and sky blue flowers trailing on vines down the walls into pots on the floor. Tables loaded with food were placed around the room.

Jareth led Sarah into the center of the large dance floor. As he turned to face her, music began. Sarah smiled as she heard it. It was the song that he had sung to her at her engagement party – the one about him singing her mornings of gold and falling in love. Her favorite one.

As they danced, Sarah heard Jareth humming the song. Fey trailed into the room to watch the couple on the dance floor. The room filled as the song continued, and by the time the song had ended, the room was full of guests.

The King and Queen of the Underground walked onto to the dance floor. They bowed to Jareth and Sarah, then stood and faced the congregated fey.

"Welcome, all, to our home," said the King. His voice was deep and rich.

"Thank you for joining us in celebration of the eternal union created between our son, Jareth, and his new queen, Sarah. Please, celebrate them with dancing and refreshment. As you are able, please contribute to their wedding arch, which stands there."

As he spoke these last words, the King gestured to a large, metal arch off to the side of the room that Sarah had not noticed before. It was creamy white and engraved with flowering vines all over it.

"Commence!" commanded the King. At his word, the music again began to play. The King bowed to the Queen, and began to sweep her around in a dance. Other fey joined them in the dance. Jareth led Sarah off the floor to a corner of the room, where Tria waited.

"Tria!" Sarah exclaimed.

"Highest congratulations," Tria said, face shining and voice trembling.

"Thank you, Tria," said Sarah.

"Let me help you, Highness," Tria said. In minutes, Sarah was divested of her long veil and her train was pinned up to allow her to move.

"Thank you," Sarah said gratefully.

"I'll be close by, should you need anything at all," Tria promised.

Sarah nodded thankfully, and then Jareth was gently tugging her back toward the celebration.

Nobles from all lands in the Underground converged around the couple, offering greetings and well wishes. Sarah did not recognize anyone. After a few minutes, Jareth led her back to the dance floor, which was now filled with fey.

As they twirled to the music, he spoke to her.

"I believe I have an apology to express, my dear Sarah," he began.

Sarah looked back up at him, frowning. "About what?" she asked.

"Well," Jareth continued, eyes wandering around them to maneuver them around the other couples dancing, "I have spoken with a certain sister of mine, who gave me quite the dressing down for what I've said to you. Or rather, not said."

It took Sarah only seconds to know whom he was referring to.

"Alianne," she said, smiling.

"Indeed," Jareth responded. He looked back at her and smiled a quick smile. "She was always my favorite sibling, you know. She and I understood each other better than the others. Though I was young when she left, I've managed to see her every so often."

"She was wonderful," Sarah said. Then, frowning, she added, "Why did she give you a lecture?"

"For my behavior," Jareth said nonchalantly.

The music changed, slowing to a quieter song. Jareth held Sarah closer as they gently swayed to the melody.

"What behavior?" asked Sarah, still confused.

"Apparently, I have neglected to tell you something," Jareth responded.

Sarah's heart skipped a beat, and she darted her eyes up to look at him. Hope flared in her chest. _Could it be?_

Jareth's eye twitched as he registered her response, and intensity burned in his eyes as he spoke.

"Sarah, I love you. I have loved you with every fiber of my being, and every minute, every second of the time you have been my betrothed has been the happiest of my life thus far. I meant every word of my vows and more, and I promise to love you for every second of this eternity that we have together."

Sarah closed her eyes and laid her head against his chest, tears prickling in her eyes. Relief poured through her being, warming her heart and calming her nerves like a salve on a wound.

_He loves me. He loves me!_

"Oh, Jareth," Sarah whispered, her voice cracking.

"Come now," Jareth said. "We must keep up appearances. I'll say it to you all over again once this celebration is over, if you like."

Sarah laughed at that and lifted her head to look at him, eyes shining.

"You are the one my soul loves," she said simply, and they smiled at each other. They danced the rest of the song in silent happiness and joy at finally, completely, understanding.

As the music picked up the tempo for the next song, Sarah saw a silvery glove tap on Jareth's shoulder. He turned to look, revealing the person behind him. Sarah's heart momentarily stopped.

"My dear Sarah!" Aric exclaimed, resplendent in silver and sky blue. He stood half a head taller than Jareth, and now that the brothers stood side by side, Sarah could see the slight similarities in the two of them. The slender frame, the set of the jaw, the innate grace in the way they moved.

"Aric," Sarah responded, curtsying.

"Highest congratulations on your marriage," Aric said with one of his heart-stopping smiles. "I cannot tell you how happy I am for you."

"Not happier than I," Sarah responded with a smile. Aric laughed at this. Jareth smiled languidly.

"May I interrupt, brother?" Aric asked, turning to Jareth. "Let me dance with my new sister."

Jareth gave him a slight nod and placed Sarah's hand in Aric's. He bowed to the two of them, saying, "I shall follow your example, brother. Therése must think me lacking in my duties." With that, he turned and disappeared into the crowd of dancers.

Aric whirled her around to the music, all grace and strength.

"Please allow me to say how absolutely breathtaking you look tonight, Sarah," Aric said. "You are without a doubt the most beautiful bride I have ever seen."

"You flatter me, Aric," Sarah said, laughing.

"Not at all!" Aric said in mock offense. "Your beauty is beyond every woman in this room."

"Thank you," Sarah said, bowing her head slightly in acceptance.

"And I must say," Aric continued, "Your absence has left us destitute in the Mountains. If there was anything I could do to convince you to return, I would do it." He accompanied this comment with a laugh.

_Oh really,_ Sarah thought. _Two can play at that game_.

"Indeed, Aric, the Mountains were absolutely lovely," Sarah said. The music drew to a close, and she saw Jareth walking back toward them.

"I must say, though, there was one thing about my stay there that perplexed me greatly."

"Oh?" Aric's face radiated intense concern. "What was it?"

"Well," Sarah said as Jareth drew equal with them, "I am not sure why, but I was absolutely plagued with nightmares during my last week in the Mountains."

Jareth's nostrils flared slightly, and a muscle twitched in his jaw.

"Good gracious, Sarah, whyever did you not say something?" Aric exclaimed. "I could have given you a draught for your relief."

"I did not want to be a fuss," Sarah said. "And," she said before Aric could interject again, "I'm sure the cause was just something I drank that did not agree with me."

Jareth coughed quietly and shifted his stance. Aric's eyes did not leave hers. He frowned slightly, his jaw tensing.

"Besides," Sarah said lightly, turning to Jareth and smiling into his eyes. "I was so homesick for Jareth that I think the nightmares were just a side effect of how much I was missing him."

This time, Jareth's jaw tensed with the suppression of a smile. Aric's face smoothed out into one of sorry concern.

"Sarah, you have my deepest regrets. Perhaps you and Jareth could visit the Mountains again soon? You should not have any nightmares if you bring him along with you."

Sarah nodded, smiling. "That sounds lovely."

Aric bowed to her, his joyful countenance returned. "Highest congratulations again, dear sister, brother. Enjoy your evening."

Jareth and Sarah bowed to him, and after returning the bow, Aric turned and quickly disappeared into the throng of dancing fey.

Jareth took her in his arms and began dancing with her again. He raised his eyebrows ever so slightly. Sarah just smiled. Seconds later, Prince Runahd interrupted them for his turn to dance with her.

And so it went on. Sarah was passed from noble to noble, each of whom complimented her on her beauty and congratulated her and Jareth on their marriage. As she was whirling around, Sarah saw Jareth doing the same with many of the noble ladies in attendance.

Finally, Sarah managed to get a break from dancing to sit down and eat. Therése joined her at a small side table.

"Highest congratulations, sister," Therése said with one of her quiet smiles. She looked beautiful, with her blonde hair streaked with ice blue like Jareth's. Her gown was made of the same soft, floaty material that Sarah had often seen her wearing in the Water Country, though this time, it was a bright white.

They nibbled on some of the many appetizers on the tables and watched the other dancers. As Sarah's eyes wandered around the room, they fell on the wedding arch the King had referred to her. To her surprise, it was now faintly flickering with light. Waves of neon and pastel colors flickered inside of it, just like the streams of light the fey in the audience had sent toward them during the wedding ceremony.

"What is that?" Sarah asked in surprise.

Therése followed Sarah's eyes to the wedding arch.

"That is your wedding arch, Sarah," she replied calmly.

"Well yes, but what is it for?" Sarah asked.

"To send you back to the Labyrinth."

Sarah turned back to Therése. "We are going back to the Labyrinth? Tonight?"

Therése nodded serenely.

"Oh," Sarah said, words failing her.

Therése smiled faintly. "It is tradition for the newly wedded couple to pass through the wedding arch and return to their own land or home at the end of the wedding celebration. It's a way of formally beginning their lives together, if you will."

"I see," said Sarah. As the thought settled in her brain, a slow smile spread across her face.

_I'm going back to the Labyrinth,_ she thought. _I'm going home!_

She didn't have any further time to dwell on that fact, as Hurren appeared to claim her for her next dance.

"Hurren," she said happily, greeting him with a smile. "I'm so happy to see you again."

"Princess," he replied quietly, inclining hid head. "Highest congratulations."

Sarah thanked him, and they began to dance. Hurren was not verbose, which gave Sarah a few minutes to think as the musicians continued to play. She could not help but wonder, as she danced with him, what he was thinking about it all. Was he thinking that this should have been him, once upon a time? And that instead of she, it should be Nicolette dancing in his arms? Sarah wondered briefly what Nicolette looked like before Jareth returned to claim her again.

For the next several hours, Sarah danced and ate, enjoying the liveliness of her wedding celebration. In between dances, she snuck peaks at the wedding arch. As the night went on, the colors streaming inside of it began to get brighter. Occasionally, she saw fey walk up to the arch, place a hand on it, and speak a few words. Each time they did so, the colors would get minutely more vibrant.

Hours later, after one particularly wild dance that had Jareth whirling her off her feet and left her breathless with laughter, the King called for a stop to the music.

"Glorious Ones," he began, smiling. "My Queen and I thank you all for your presences tonight at the wedding of our son and his new queen. And thank you further for your contributions to their wedding arch, which even now awaits their passage."

Sarah's eyes glanced over to the arch, and saw to her delight that it was shining brightly, its colors a maelstrom of shades that flickered and spun and flashed between the stone of the arch.

"Please gather," stated the King. At his words, the fey began to gather in two long rows, creating a long walkway that led to the arch.

Jareth led her to the back of the room, where the walkway began. He looked down at her.

"Ready?" he asked quietly, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Yes," Sarah said quietly. She had never felt more sure of an answer in her life.

Jareth faced forward, and, clasping her hand in his, he began to walk up the walkway toward the wedding arch.

The fey began to cheer, and several of them threw rose petals in the air ahead of them, which wafted into Sarah's hair and slid down the whispery folds of her dress.

Sarah felt her face beaming, despite herself. Jareth nodded gracefully to the fey they passed, still walking them ever toward the wedding arch.

They were halfway there. Seconds later, they were at the end of the walkway. The King and Queen were solemnly wishing them their most sincere congratulations . . .

. . . and they were passing through the arch. Sarah felt the multitudes of magic transferred into it grip her and swirl around her even as Jareth continued to lead them forward . . .


End file.
